The Harem Saga
by Jeffery Harris
Summary: Originally posted on the old TMFFA, ported here by request.
1. PROLOGUE

_Here I am with open arms  
Waiting for my boy to come to me  
And when my baby's here with all his charms  
I'll whisper to his ear in secrecy  
Baby..._

_Funny how all dreams come true  
Like a fool I'm into you  
The day we met I lost my sanity  
Funny how I feel for you  
Like a fool I'm into you  
You washed away my insecurities_

_Here we lie heart to heart  
The perfect night for keeping you so near  
And we'll let all the world drift far apart  
As I hear you whisper to my ear  
Baby..._

_Funny how all dreams come true  
Like a fool I'm into you  
The day we met I lost my sanity  
Funny how I feel for you  
Like a fool I'm into you_

_Dreams come true  
Like a fool I'm into you  
The day we met I lost my sanity  
Funny what our love can do  
Like a fool I'm into you, boy_

_Dreams come true  
Like a fool I'm into you  
The day we met I lost my sanity  
Funny how I feel for you  
Like a fool I'm into you  
You washed away my insecurities._

Song: "Dreams Come True"  
Artist: Korean version performed by S.E.S., English version performed by Trish

Each was isolated and alone for a very long time.  
Each traveled far across time and space.  
Each needed rescued from a dire fate.  
Each needed a hero to become whole.

To choose one was to abandon four.  
But there were was another option...


	2. EPISODE 1  Kime

**focus** n 1: the concentration of attention or energy on something [syn: focusing, focussing, centering] 2: maximum clarity or distinctness of an image rendered by an optical system : "in focus"; "out of focus" 3: maximum clarity or distinctness of an idea; "the controversy brought clearly into focus an important difference of opinion" 4: a central point or locus of bacterial growth in an organism [syn: nidus] 5: special emphasis attached to something [syn: stress] 6: a point of convergence of light (or other radiation) or a point from which it diverges [syn: focal point] 7: a fixed reference point of one's attention on something [syn: concentrate, center, pore, rivet]

**ACT 1 - SATURDAY MORNING**

"You want to do what?" Tenchi asked, nearly spitting out a mouthful of his breakfast.

"We want to hypnotize you," Washu replied. "I wish to study the Lighthawk Wings under a controlled environment."

"And I'm concerned about your failure to control the Tenchi-ken," Yosho said. "Your recent confrontation with Lord Seriyu left much to be desired."

Tenchi looked skeptical. "And what kind of suggestions are you eager to plant in my head?"

"I swear I will only ask questions. No suggestions. Besides, your grandfather will be right there with you, just to keep things on the up-and-up."

"I dunno..."

"Aw-w-w, c'mon, Tenchi, it might be kinda fun!" Ryoko prodded. "Maybe I could ask a couple of questions...?"

"No," replied Washu.

Ayeka interjected. "Can we come along and simply observe?"

"Yes," Washu answered, "but only on two conditions."

"What are those?"

"Keep quiet and stay out of the way. And there will be absolutely no bickering between you two," Washu said, looking pointedly at Ryoko and Ayeka. "I won't have his concentration disturbed." She turned towards Tenchi. "What do you say, Tenchi?"

To be honest, Tenchi wasn't in favor of it. Things happened down in Washu's lab that could get rather wild. However, since Yosho was going to be present, the chances of Washu trying to pull something were reduced. "Sure," he said nervously.

############

Tenchi's breakfast sat like a lump in his stomach, and he wished he hadn't eaten so much. His chair was reasonably comfortable, but he wasn't: Washu's cavernous lab was dark, except for a few portable lights clustered around his seat, which put him in the middle of a light cone. Washu's workstation was just outside this light cone, and Yosho sat on a stool next to her. Beyond them sat Ryoko, Ayeka, Sasami, and Mihoshi. They whispered among themselves, watching Washu adjust monitors and direct sensor arrays around the darkened ceiling.

Finally, Washu walked over to Tenchi and handed him an odd-looking helmet. "Here," she ordered, "put this on."

"Why?"

"Tut, tut, don't argue with a genius. Besides you'll only have it on for a moment. I'm calibrating a sensor."

"Oh." That didn't sound too bad. He wriggled the contraption onto his head, and asked, "Now what?"

Washu's answer was to flip a switch on the side on her console. Tenchi spasmed once and then slumped. She walked back over to stand in front of him. "Ok, Tenchi, you can remove the helmet now." He did so, but his manner had changed: he was much less animated than before, his actions were performed mechanically, and his eyes were vacant and unfocused. She took the helmet from his limp hands. "Tenchi, you will remain relaxed and stay calm. Yosho and I are going to ask you some questions, which you will answer fully and completely. No harm will come to you, nor will you be asked to do anything that is against your nature. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," he said, his voice flat and emotionless.

"Sit up straight," she ordered. He did so.

"How long will he stay under?" Yosho asked.

"Until we awaken him. He's actually a pretty good subject for this." She looked at one of her display screens. "Everything's normal, no adverse reactions. I think we're ready. Tenchi, how many times have you summoned the Lighthawk Wings?" Washu asked.

"Three times," Tenchi answered.

"Please describe each occurrence."

"The first was on board Ayeka's ship, when I tried to counterattack Kagato. The second was aboard the Souja, when he threw a fireball at me. The third time was near Dr. Clay's ship, when it started breaking apart."

"Why didn't you summon them during your duel with Lord Seriyu?"

"I am uncomfortable with them"

"Why"

"I have less control with them than with the Tenchi-ken, and they are much more powerful. And I am frightened of the Lighthawk Sword."

"Why?"

"I cut an entire ship in half with it. Its source of power is infinite — I'm afraid what might happen if it got away from me."

Washu and Yosho exchanges startled glances. "But the Lighthawk Wings are a defensive shield. Surely it is safe enough to summon them?"

"I suppose so," Tenchi replied reluctantly.

"Which of the three occasions did you feel the least in control of them?"

"The first time, aboard Ayeka's ship. She was trying to give me directions for something I was totally unfamiliar with."

"And which was the most successful occurrence?"

"The second time. I felt Tsunami's presence guiding me."

"Ok, Tenchi, I want you to relax. We are going to go back in time to your fight with Kagato, to the point where he has just tossed you against one of the bulkheads. I want you to tell me what you were feeling, what you were sensing."

"I hurt. I was a little dizzy from the impact. I felt frustrated and shamed by my weakness, by my failure to aid my friends. Then I heard Tsunami's voice explaining how to apply the information she had planted in my mind."

Washu interrupted him. "When did she give this information to you?"

"When she had Azaka and Kamidake recover my shattered body, after Ryu-oh's command module was destroyed...after she regenerated me. That's when she planted the information into my mind."

"What was this information?"

"She described the fabric of normal space-time as a sea of energy at the subatomic level, how waves of energy churn this sea into a foam, and that sometimes the foam cools off enough to form particles. Normal space-time is imbedded in a parallel, thought-like dimension of quantum information, and that regions of this dimension are bonded to regions of normal space-time. A particle in normal space-time casts a shadow pattern in quantum space-time. But this arrangement works both ways: if you modify the particle, you shift the pattern; by adjusting the pattern, you alter the particle. Repeat the action often enough and fast enough, and you can manipulate large scale objects."

"Can you tell me how to do this?"

Tenchi was silent for a few moments, and finally said, "No. There are simply no words that accurately describe the process. It is done with the mind."

"Please continue your narrative aboard the Souja," Washu said.

"I realized that I could now fight back on Kagato's level. I also started getting angry — I saw Tsunami being reeled in like a fish, I heard Sasami crying, I sensed Ayeka and Mihoshi trapped someplace, and I watched Kagato torturing Ryoko. It was when he taunted me that I decided to discard the Tenchi-ken...Kagato had drained it anyway, and I had now had more powerful tools at my disposal. The final insult was the casual fireball that he threw at me — I crystallized the Lighthawk Wings in time to dispel the attack."

Yosho interrupted him. "In other words, it was only when you cleared your mind of all distractions that you were able to summon the Lighthawk Wings?"

"Yes."

"There are no distractions here and now. Can you show us how you do this?"

Tenchi complied. He rose from his chair, took a step forward, and braced himself. He cupped his hands together at waist level, and then slowly unfolded them outwards. The wings suddenly appeared in their Y-shaped configuration, shimmering and pulsing with internal energies. Washu scrambled to get her sensors trained on them. After several moments of intently studying her monitors she emitted a low whistle. "Well, I'll be damned."

"What is it?" Yosho asked, looking over her shoulder.

"The Lighthawk Wings are being continuously recreated, rather than constructed once."

"That would explain their pulsing nature," Yosho said.

"No, that pulse is just a secondary signature in synch with his heartbeat. The actual frequency of emergence is several hundred times a second. Tenchi, I'm curious: if quantum space-time retains patterns for real objects, does that mean that the Lighthawk Wings have a physical basis somewhere in normal space-time?"

"No, they are a different class of patterns."

"Could you clarify that?"

"Consider the brain and the mind. The brain exists in normal space-time as a collection of particles, and this collection has its Companion patterns in quantum space-time. But overlaying this collection is the mind, which exists solely as a superpattern without a Companion in normal space-time. The Lighthawk Wings are of a similar class of pattern."

"How many different classes are there?" asked Washu, thoroughly intrigued.

"I don't know," Tenchi answered.

"Too bad, this was getting interesting. Oh, well, just another mystery to pursue later. And I heard that yawning over there, "Washu said, looking beyond the circle of light. "Ryoko, come here, please."

Ryoko appeared in the air beside her. "Yes?"

"Do me a favor and strike the wings with your energy sword."

"Won't that hurt Tenchi?" she asked dubiously.

"No. Tenchi? Ryoko is going to attack you. Defend yourself."

Ryoko walked around to stand in front of him. The wings were awesome, predatory things, like radiant talons. She gulped apprehensively.

"Rather like looking down the maw of hell, isn't it?" Yosho asked behind her.

She nodded, relieved that he was standing there. With a toss of her head, she clenched her right fist and concentrated. The palmed ball of light quickly expanded into a meter-long rod, the hiss of dying oxygen molecules being the only sound marking its passage through the air. She took a tentative swing at one of the wings. It pivoted slightly, forcing her sword to strike its center.

"Do it again," Washu urged. "Only, swing harder."

Ryoko began a series of cuts, trying to slip her blade between the wings. They rotated much too fast for her, and she produced nothing but a cascade of sparks. Her confidence grew when she realized that Tenchi would not allow her blade near him. She smiled, her competitive nature kicking in. She increased the tempo, using both hands to apply her super-human strength. The results didn't vary. She tried to maneuver around the rotating shield, but Tenchi wouldn't allow that, either. She laughed, enjoying the dance.

"Ayeka! Get in there and help her," Washu commanded.

Ryoko made room for her rival, feeling the princess' Power level increasing. Ayeka tried using a force bolt down the center of the wings, which Tenchi easily neutralized. Ryoko's energy sword vanished, to be replaced by a gathering swarm of firefly-bright darts.

"Fire together!" Washu instructed.

Before they could act, however, Tenchi set the wings to rotating. The gentle _whup-whup-whup_ quickly grew to an irritated _whip-pip-pip_ and then an angry _whirrr_, as the blades spun faster and faster. His face flickered strobe-like between them, blinking in shorter and shorter intervals until he seemed to merge with the transparent wings. Ryoko and Ayeka raised their hands and let fly with volley after volley, and the lab re-sounded with pyrotechnics and thunder. They tried separating, attacking from different sides, but it did no good — the wings twisted and writhed like living things, enveloping their master in a blister of pure force. Stray bolts ricocheted into the darkness, causing Sasami to scream and Washu to curse, but still the test continued.

Finally, Ryoko and Ayeka staggered backwards, exhausted. "That's enough!" Ryoko panted. Ayeka agreed, spent.

"Thank you, ladies," Washu said, dismissing them. They staggered back to their seats, looking frequently at the boy in the center of his humming shield. "You may rest now, Tenchi." Tenchi didn't really need it — he hadn't even broken a sweat. The wings stopped their rotation, assuming once again their Y-shaped posture.

"That didn't seem too difficult," Yosho commented.

"Manipulating the wings is not much different from manipulating a sword," Tenchi replied. "The difficulty comes when I feed more energy into them. As they get swollen and engorged, they become heavy and sluggish."

"How much energy can you feed into them?"

"I don't know."

"In theory, since he's feeding them energy directly from the quantum vacuum, it should be infinite," Washu interjected. "But there are always practical limits. Still, he drew enough energy to extract himself and Ayeka and Mihoshi from the event horizon of Dr. Clay's singularity. That's a considerable achievement."

"He can summon only three wings; think of the power at Tsunami's disposal with the ten wings she summons."

Washu's response was to purse her lips and roll her eyes, refusing any further conjecture. She turned back to Tenchi. "What was that transformation you made during your fight with Kagato?" Washu asked.

"I noticed some burns on my arms, and Tsunami's information showed me how to repair the injuries and fabricate body armor for myself."

"Can you demonstrate this for us?"

Tenchi lifted his hands to point into the two highest wings, which boiled along his limbs and down his legs like an effervescent foam, coating his body with a mist that condensed into a shimmering exoskeleton. The third wing remained, drifting upwards to chest height. The light cone enveloping him was simply washed away, bleached out by the greater source of illumination.

"I wonder how much protection that armor provides?" Yosho said.

"Since it is behaves like the Lighthawk Wings, and would repair itself nearly instantaneously, I can only speculate...unless Tenchi would consent to having the ladies throw some more fireworks at him."

"No!" chorused Ayeka and Ryoko.

Washu cackled softly as she checked her monitors. "Ok, let's discuss the Lighthawk Sword. What is it, for starters?"

"The original sword was carved from crystal, then minutely scanned, and its pattern stored in quantum space-time."

"What became of the original?" Washu asked.

"I don't know."

"How much concentration is required to summon the sword?" Yosho asked.

"Total concentration. And once crystallized, it requires a great deal of energy to maintain the weapon's cohesion. It is a delicate balance."

"Yet its capabilities exceed the wings."

"Yes. It frightens me to use it."

"Yet you did use it, and successfully."

"No! I was lucky. In my desire to destroy Kagato I applied more Power than I needed. I destroyed the Souja as a consequence. I can't even imagine what would have happened if I had unleashed more energy into it."

"Tenchi, how did you feel the first time you grasped a _katana_?" asked Yosho.

"Exhilarated. Scared."

"Explain."

"It was the sword of my ancestors. A razor-sharp work of art. And yet, its use required precision and courage, or the blood shed would be my own."

"Can't the same feelings be applied to the Lighthawk Sword?"

"I don't know. It's so alien..."

"It's just a tool, Tenchi. No better or worse than the hand that guides it. Proficiency only comes with practice and persistence."

"Would you please summon the sword?" Washu asked.

Tenchi's right hand reached forward to grasp the hovering Wing. As his fingers closed around it, it contracted inward and upward with a wave-like shimmer. The petal-shaped wing quickly transformed into the Lighthawk Sword. The sword was a two-handed, twin-edged weapon over a meter in length. Its quillions and pommel were intricately carved with strange symbols, and the blade was grooved and tapered into a wicked tongue shape. The polished surface flashed reflections into the dark corners of the lab, and it glowed with internal fire.

"It's beautiful," Yosho whispered. "And it pulses like the wings."

"Geez, the cutting edge is only a few atoms across," Washu announced, passing a hand-held sensor over the blade. "Almost a perfect wedge. That thing would slice through steel plate without resistance. Whoever crafted it was one of the greatest artisans in history."

"Tenchi, perform the first _kata_," Yosho commanded. He pulled Washu out of the light cone and out of harm's way. Tenchi bowed towards his teacher, and then settled into the beginning fighting posture. What followed was a graceful series of flowing movements that saw the sword rising and falling in ever-tighter arcs. The blade left an energy wake hovering in the air, like strokes from an ephemeral paintbrush. Years of practice were evident in the power and precision of Tenchi's techniques. It was a lethal ballet. Tenchi completed the _kata_ with a flourish and bowed once more. The girls clapped appreciatively, which earned them a glare from Washu.

"Tenchi, how much energy could you comfortably feed the sword?" she asked.

"I could raise the threshold a bit."

"Do so, please."

The sword in his hands became an incandescent crucifix, illuminating every corner of the lab. Tenchi's shadow rippled across the floor and engulfed Washu's workstation, placing her in a graduated darkness. The four girls were no longer sitting in twilight, but were clearly visible, mesmerized by the display. Yosho stood off to one side, slowly circling his grandson, shielding his eyes so he could inspect the sword.

This tableau continued until Washu was satisfied that she had collected enough data. "Yosho? I'm done with the sword. How about you?"

"I've seen enough."

"Tenchi, you may dematerialize the Lighthawk Sword." Tenchi complied, the sword vanished, and the lab dimmed dramatically. It did not return to its original gloom, however, since he still retained the armor.

Yosho silently returned to his seat, lost in thought. Washu busied herself at her console, pausing only when she felt Ryoko materialize behind her.

"Are you taking a break? And can I talk to him for a minute?" Ryoko asked.

"Yes, I am taking a break, and yes, you can talk to him. But he can't answer you back."

"Good enough," she said, and teleported over to where Tenchi stood. Floating so close to him took her breath away. His armor was nearly blinding at this distance, and she could feel the Power radiating from him. His pupils were dark and dilated, the highlights within them sparkling like diamonds. This was the image that she would carry in her heart forever: her knight in shining armor, the one who had liberated her from evil incarnate. Those memories were still fresh and painful, and it was all she could do to sit quietly in the darkness and watch him — she needed to hold him. He gave no indication that he was aware of her, which suited her just fine: maybe he couldn't respond, but he couldn't run away, either. She wrapped her arms around him, expecting the glowing material to be cold and metallic. But it wasn't; like him it felt warm and alive, and shifted subtly with his breathing. She pressed against him, enjoying the sensation of absolute security. "I love you, Tenchi," she whispered into his ear, and then put her head on his shoulder and wept quietly.

It was only moments before Ayeka was standing beside them, a thundercloud on her face — which faded when she heard her rival sobbing. "Ryoko?" Instead of her usual imperious whine, her voice had modulated to the soft timbre reserved for her little sister. "What is wrong?"

"It's ok, Ayeka," Ryoko sniffed, reluctantly disengaging from Tenchi. "I never really thanked him for rescuing me." She wiped her eyes with her sleeves, struggling to reestablish her crusty facade. "Good thing he can't see me — he'd just think I was turning into a crybaby." And then she was gone.

Ayeka studied Tenchi's face, the planes and curves of it, its textures and shades. Gods, he was handsome, and he resembled nothing less than an avenging archangel. Ryoko had said he couldn't see them, so she dropped her normally reserved demeanor. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "I love you, Tenchi Masaki, Crown Prince of my heart!" Then she kissed his cheek, giggled, and strode away.

Mihoshi and Sasami wandered over, shading their eyes from the glare. They, too, touched his luminescent carapace, curious about it. "I've worn Galaxy Police battle armor on occasion, but nothing like this," said Mihoshi. "This is fabulous!"

"I've seen pictures of some of my ancestors wearing this, but nobody in my family has been able to summon it in several generations. Tenchi must be a really strong Power user." Sasami ran her hand over Tenchi's arm. "This feels almost like animal hide!"

Mihoshi looked into his eyes for several moments, and then asked Sasami, "Does he ever talk about his feelings? He seems the most relaxed around you."

Sasami shrugged. "We talk about a lot of things, but not his feelings. Why?"

"Oh, I don't know. I just wondered if he likes me, I guess."

"As far as I know, he does."

"I hope so. I sure like him. A lot."

"He is cute, isn't he?" Sasami asked.

"All right, ladies, return to your seats!" Washu marched over and hustled them away from her test subject. She had been discreetly watching the parade of females, each exposing a bit of their soul on the assumption that Tenchi wasn't aware of them. Actually, he was fully aware of them; Washu had simply said that he couldn't answer. Tenchi was probably writhing in embarrassment from these confessions. She was surprised he hadn't gotten a nosebleed. It really was an amusing situation, that her housemates had to wait until he was immobilized to bare their feelings towards him. He was usually tongue-tied when it came to discussing his feelings (typical male behavior). She was tempted to exploit this situation herself, and tell Tenchi how she felt about him, how she —

— and then the alarms in her mind went off: this was not normal behavior. At least, not for her. She prided herself on her objectivity and control through all of her experiments, and this one should be no different. It really wasn't normal behavior for any of these girls, either. On a hunch, she adjusted her monitors to include everyone else in the room. Since she already had base-line readings for everyone stored in the system, she could compare them later as she had planned to do with Tenchi.

Washu looked at the ladies and considered: Well, if everyone was in a mood to tell their secrets, then perhaps this was a good time to resolve some of the issues that troubled the group as a whole. "Tenchi, how do you feel about the galactic houseguests living with you?"

"I love them like family," he answered.

"Are you attracted to any one of them in particular?"

"I'm attracted to all of them."

"Sexually attracted?"

"Yes."

"Even me and Sasami?"

"I've seen you as an adult. And I've seen Sasami's future form." Meaning Tsunami, of course.

"Have you had any fantasies about us?"

"Yes. About each of you."

"So why haven't you done anything about it?"

"To pick one would mean hurting the others. Besides, you all scare me."

"Huh? Please elaborate."

"I don't know how to deal with you — particularly Ryoko and Ayeka. I like their attention, but I get very tired of the bickering. They cause so much damage, and they often hurt each other. It is easier to clean up their messes than to get them to stop. Though I try to treat all of you as good friends, it's just not enough — you want more from me. I've never had a real girlfriend, so I don't know how to behave. I just don't know what you see in me. You are all so beautiful, and so exotic, but..."

"But what?" Washu prompted.

"Are you human?"

Washu laughed. "Tenchi, Earth was colonized nearly 40,000 years ago by humans from the stars. There are hundreds of worlds across the galaxy teeming with human life. With so many diverse environments, cosmetic differences are inevitable. Of course we are human. If we weren't, neither you nor your mother nor your grandfather would have ever been born. If you remember nothing else today, it is that we galactics are all fully human."

"Even Ryoko, with her extraordinary abilities?"

"Yes, even Ryoko. Despite her genetic enhancements, the core DNA is still fully human." Washu heard arguing from the darkness, presumably Ayeka teasing her rival, and Ryoko responding. "Tenchi, would you please describe each of your houseguests?"

"Ryoko is wild and passionate, as is any creature freed from long captivity. She has blood on her hands and burns on her soul, thanks to Kagato. But beneath the hard shell beats a gentle and compassionate heart. She needs to touch and be touched, to know that someone cares, to learn how to care for others. In time, she will heal. She needs an anchor in her life, to provide her with a purpose, and a home, and a reason to temper her passion.

"Ayeka is Ryoko's mirror image: she is shy and demure most of the time, very poised and confident. But like Ryoko, she has also been a captive, although her prison was a luxurious one. She cloaks herself in etiquette and protocol and duty to hide her loneliness. A steel fist in a silken glove, she will tolerate no obstacles to whatever goal she chooses. She needs a refuge in her life, a sanctuary where she can relax, a place to release her passion.

"Sasami is energetic, lively, loyal, and smart. She is compassionate and concerned, and fun to be around. She worries about Tsunami, and her precognitive dreams, but she is also able to set them aside and enjoy her life. She is still growing — and her potential is awesome.

"Mihoshi is an enthusiastic extrovert: an extremely powerful mind that over-developed the instinctive and emotional side. She sees patterns rather than details, an essential for a detective. Though she lacks coordination and a grasp of the obvious, her appreciation for the simple things in life, for the joy of the moment, makes her a wonderful Companion. She needs a calming influence in her life, to help her organize and control the chaos she unleashes.

"You are Mihoshi's mirror image: a reclusive introvert who has over-developed the intellectual side of your mind. You see details rather than patterns, an essential for a scientist. You keep your life tightly controlled and meticulously organized, just to protect yourself from any further emotional pain. You need a reason to embrace your humanity and emerge once again into the sunlight."

Everyone watched Yosho slowly walk over to examine his grandson. "Tenchi, you lack focus, which is why you cannot control your abilities yet. Just look at your poor performance with the Tenchi-ken. It was only under an all-consuming anger that you were able to concentrate fully enough to use the Lighthawk weapons. This is not a good practice, and could lead down the path to Kagato. We will have to look for some appropriate meditation exercises to increase your focus."

Somewhat absently, Washu told Tenchi he could dismiss the armor. For a moment he was wrapped in a silvery fog, and then it vanished, and the lab returned to darkness. It suited the mood.

**ACT 2 - SUNDAY MORNING**

Sasami found the note first. Like she usually did on Sunday mornings, she slept a bit later, then meandered down to the kitchen to start on breakfast. That's when she found Tenchi's note. It was short:

Gone hiking, back by supper. Tenchi

It was apparent that he had packed a lunch. He must have risen r-e-a-l-l-y early to complete his preparations and leave undetected. He even got past Ryoko, who was still snoring loudly from her rafter. That is so unlike him she thought. She was still pondering it when Yosho wandered in.

"Good morning, Sasami."

"Good morning, Yosho. Did you see this?" She passed him the note.

"No, but I heard him leave."

"This isn't like Tenchi. Is something bothering him?"

"Is there something wrong with Tenchi?" Ayeka asked from the doorway. Yosho passed her the note.

"I think he has much on his mind after yesterday's experiment," Yosho replied.

"Where's Tenchi?" Ryoko asked, yawning loudly. "He's not in his room." Ayeka passed her the note.

Mihoshi wandered in, taking her usual seat at the table. "What's up?"

"Which direction did he go?" Ryoko asked. She handed the note to Mihoshi.

Yosho shrugged.

Noriyuki entered the kitchen, whistling loudly. "Looking for Tenchi?"

"Yes," four female voices answered.

"He took off for the south hills about an hour ago. He was stuffing a lunch into his backpack when I saw him."

"Think I should go look for him?" Ryoko asked.

"No, leave him be. He has some issues on his mind, or he wouldn't be seeking the solitude," Yosho replied.

"Which gives us ladies a chance to talk," announced Washu from the doorway.

############

The water in the onsen rippled as five nearly naked females settled into it. It didn't take long to adjust towels, open the sake bottles, and get comfortable.

"Very well, Washu, we are all here," Ayeka said. "What is it you wished to discuss?"

"Before we get started..." Washu opened a sub-space pocket and extracted a small device that she set next to the tub. She flipped a switch, igniting a red indicator and small humming sound.

"What is that thing?" Ryoko asked.

"An energy damper. Now, if your tempers flare, there will be no energy bolts or blades in here. You will have nothing sharper than your tongues."

"What did you want to talk to us about?" Mihoshi asked.

"Actually, I only have one thing to say, but I'm willing to bet each of you will have something to add to it."

"So spit it out," Ryoko said, reaching for a sake refill.

"Very well. Each of you heard what Tenchi had to say about us yesterday. He's scared to open up to any of us. Frankly, this competition for him is getting destructive. I think it ought to stop."

"That's all very good for you to say," Ryoko replied, "but you don't love him — "

"Don't I? Certainly not the way you think of love."

"Nobody thinks of love the way she does: pure animal instinct to rut," Ayeka smiled cattily.

"Of course, your interests are so much more noble and spiritual..." Ryoko countered.

"As a matter of fact, they are."

"Oh, get real. You want to roll in the sack with him just like the rest of us. That sounds pretty carnal to me."

"You're an expert on carnal knowledge, aren't you? How many thousands of years did you spend on the Souja with Kagato? All those nights with just the two of you. Very educational. And how many times did you service that monster? After so many centuries of dallying about, I'll bet you got the process of regenerating your hymen down to a fine art — like raising and lowering a window shade. The Eternal Virgin. How do you think Tenchi would feel, knowing that you've been used so often that you're little better than a scabrous, worn-out sewage drain?"

"For your information, Little Princess, the proper term is not 'dalliance' but 'rape.' Yes, it happened many times, but I wasn't the only object of his attention. He entertained many guests — men and women — before tossing them out the airlock. Of course, that was during the early years, while he was still human, before the Power consumed him. And I was always the tool of last resort. And there was never any pleasure in it."

"You don't even know if you're capable of pleasure."

"No, but I know who I'm willing to experiment with."

"Like he'd have you."

"At least he'd know what passion is. You're so uptight and inhibited that you'd squeak like a rusty gate. So cold and calculating, so manipulative."

"Is that why you're called the 'Ice Princess'?" Mihoshi interrupted.

"Silence, cretin," Ayeka said.

"No, I won't. We're talking about Tenchi, not politics, and my opinion is just as valid as yours."

"Maybe Tenchi just smells the cloud of pheromones around your empty head. And how many men have you bounced since puberty? No doubt the list is a long one."

"It isn't as long as you'd like to think," Mihoshi replied. "At least there was real sentiment involved with each of them, not some political consideration."

"Then go ahead and ask Tenchi if he'd settle for being another notch on your lipstick case."

"You sure are hung-up on this virginity thing, aren't you?" Ryoko taunted. "But I suppose that's only natural, since the Imperial line of succession depends upon who tears that sheet of skin..."

Sasami leaned over to whisper to Washu, "This is getting ugly. Don't you think we ought to stop it?"

"No. Sometimes you have to drain the poison out of a wound before it can heal," Washu whispered back.

"I was raised to believe that sex was reserved strictly between husband and wife," Ayeka continued. "Otherwise, there is no significance to the act. Consider this: it drives you to crazy just thinking about Tenchi being with me; how would you feel if he had slept with a whole string of other women? My, where's the significance then, eh? Do his kisses and embraces still sound so inviting if you're just one more bed partner?" Ayeka's taunts had hurt — Ryoko blanched. "What could you possibly give him that is intimate, and precious, and completely unique between the two of you?"

"My love," Ryoko answered softly.

Ayeka pondered Ryoko's reply, then said as softly, "Ok, I will give you that point." Turning to Mihoshi, voice hardening, she said, "But not you. You say that you've been 'in love' before. No doubt that justified spreading your legs each time. So, are you going to compare him against the others, and then rate him? Maybe offer him some advice to improve his performance? I'm sure he'll appreciate that."

"No," Mihoshi answered.

"To be fair, you should give him a few years to play catch up, and a chance to sample the local wildlife. No? I thought not. Tell me, what can you possibly give him that doesn't have other men's fingerprints all over it?"

"Children."

"Bah! With your promiscuous life-style, children are an accident of timing. It would just be Tenchi's misfortune to be last in line when the birth-control failed."

"There wouldn't have been any others if I had met Tenchi first."

"That's a worthless argument. You could have stood by your principles and waited for your wedding night, rather than yielding to the heat of the moment. Maybe you haven't noticed, but Tenchi is doing his utmost to stand by his principles."

"And I suppose you never had any boyfriends? You never tried to sneak off in the moonlight with one of your suitors?"

"Absolutely correct. I stayed true to Yosho. Beside, most of those false-faced fawning fools had no redeeming qualities whatsoever. You may call me pampered, but I was still con-fined to a prison."

"Well, your guards and cell were a lot more pleasant than mine were," Ryoko mumbled absently, pouring herself another sake.

"Don't even go there. I'm no murderer, and I left no trail of destruction behind me."

"I didn't do those things by choice!" Ryoko exclaimed.

"As Tenchi said, 'you have blood on your hands and burns on your soul.'"

"He also said they would heal," Mihoshi countered. Ryoko smiled gratefully at her. "Don't you ever get tired of ordering everyone about? It must be terribly difficult here without your household staff tending to your every whim. What have you ever accomplished on your own merits?"

"I don't see — "

"No, you don't see. You push Tenchi around like just another courtier, and he complies only because he is no nice. Where is there any honest affection in that?"

"Humph! This is a fruitless discussion."

Washu whispered to Sasami, who opened another bottle of sake and started refilling cups.

"Ryoko, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course, Sasami. What is it?"

"Why do you drink so much?"

"Do you want the daytime answer, or the nighttime answer?"

"Both."

"Ok," Ryoko replied, sipping her sake. "First the daytime answer. I get a little bored, and baiting your sister is a good way to relieve the tedium until Tenchi gets home from school. Unfortunately, the house usually gets damaged, and we tend to chase Tenchi away...which defeats the whole purpose, I guess."

"Then why don't you just leave?" Ayeka asked her. "Ryo-ohki can take you anywhere you want to go."

"I'm waiting for Tenchi to make up his mind. And down deep in my soul, I'm just enjoying my freedom. There is no one chasing me, or shooting at me, or trying to control me. If I want to just sit on the roof and watch the clouds, or feel the wind in my hair, then I can do it. It's a wonderful feeling."

"What about the nighttime answer?" Sasami prompted.

"I drink to stifle the demons that haunt my dreams. Some nights are worse than others, and the alcohol doesn't keep them at bay. Then I'm compelled to wander around — "

" — up to Tenchi's room."

"Yes, Ayeka, up to Tenchi's room. I want to make sure he's still safe. Oh, in my head I know that nothing will happen to him, but my heart is so afraid that something might — that the one light in my long, miserable life will be taken away or extinguished, and leave me alone and desolate again. So I hover above his bed, and smell him, and listen to his breathing, and watch his face in the moonlight, and wonder what he's dreaming about, and ache to hold him. And then I can relax enough to doze a little...and in my dreams he's there to banish the nightmares and silence the screams and to protect me, if only for a little while. He's my knight in shining armor."

"What about you, Ayeka?" Sasami asked.

"What about me?"

"Why do you drink so much?"

Ayeka stirred her sake with her finger. "From the day of my birth, I was baptized in politics and statecraft. The trouble with living at the top of the pyramid is that everyone wants to replace you. Alliances and loyalties can change at the slightest provocation. You can never trust anyone. Those who don't openly covet your position will mask their eyes, and thus their hearts, and thus their agenda. And they all have an agenda. Every opportunity to curry favor is taken, every chance to advance one's position is exploited. Gods, the scheming never stops. You simply cannot imagine the long line of fops and snakes that I have had to associate with. And the few honorable men that I chanced to meet were always in transit, or overawed by the proximity to the throne, or just thoroughly disgusted with the whole bureaucracy. I had no confidants."

"What about your father?" Ryoko asked.

"My father is generally very stern, very authoritative, very..."

"He's a bully."

"Thank you, Sasami. Yes, he's a bully. Very charming when that works, very brutish when it doesn't. He's managed to stay on the throne so long because he is a stronger Power adept than anyone else." She smiled. "Except Tenchi; even Father can't summon the Lighthawk Wings. I can just imagine the jealous glint in his eyes when he read Mihoshi's report. I suspect that is why he tried to marry me off to that pink-haired buffoon, Lord Seriyu — he's afraid of what Tenchi might do if he got really angry...or perhaps what kind of offspring we might produce. Of course, since Yosho's disappearance seven centuries ago, I am first in line for the throne. At least, in theory I'm first in line. In reality, I'm still little more than a commodity to be auctioned off to the most suitable candidate."

"And what about Sasami?" Ryoko asked.

"A fate destined for Sasami, too, I'm afraid. Her marriage into a noble family will cement yet another political alliance. At least for a while. And as for me, a strong husband will assume the throne in all but name, and I will find myself cast into yet another pampered prison. Not a very encouraging prospect, considering some of the other 'duties' I will be forced to endure. And knowing my father, any suitor he chooses will be a loyal little clone: strong, ambitious, and obsessed."

"I'm surprised he allowed you to go chasing off after Yosho."

"Well, consider the advantages. I was out of his hair — "

" — **We** were out of his hair."

"Oh, sorry, Sasami. **We** were out of his hair, and safely asleep aboard one of the empire's toughest Tree Ships. There were very few serious threats to us while we searched, and anything Ryu-oh couldn't outfight she could outrun. And I suspect Father's consorts helped persuade him to leave well enough alone. He knew where we were, so he could worry about other things (and there is always something to worry about). Besides, we might have even located Yosho, his preferred successor." She sipped her sake. "So off we went on a desperate search for our half-brother. I had pinned all of my hopes on Yosho, you see, because he was my only friend and my only escape from a life filled with cynicism and deceit and loneliness. I was completely devastated when I thought he was dead. My future looked very bleak." She slammed back the rest of her sake and reached for the bottle. "And then I met my knight in shining armor. His heart was filled with courage, compassion, and kindness, and his eyes brimmed with honesty and honor and humor. And to top it off, not only is he a nobleman, but a kinsman — Yosho's grandson! He's the answer to every prayer I ever made. Yes, I fell in love with him. How could I not? I have been given a second chance at happiness. Some days I simply cannot take my eyes off of him, and I hang on every word he speaks." She raised her drink to her lips, paused, and said, "And if I lose him like Yosho, I fear I will be sucked back into the abyss forever."

"What about you, Mihoshi? Why do you drink so much?"

"Well, I like the taste, and the buzz is nice."

"Is that so different from your normal state of mind?" Ayeka asked dryly.

"I'm no idiot, you know. I just get distracted easily, and I have trouble with technical details. It's like a blockage in my brain, the complicated stuff just gets filtered out. My parents put me in therapy for a while, not that I really objected — that's when they discovered that I was an empath, which explained a lot of the undeveloped higher brain functions. In school I was terrible in the hard sciences, but I excelled in the humanities and literary arts. I won poetry and creative writing contests. Since I am an empath I can analyze people extremely well (I can feel their bottled-up emotions), so I can help them more often than not."

"An empath, eh?" Ayeka said. "So, why didn't you become a therapist yourself?"

"I actually started down that path. That was my major in college, although my science classes were simply horrible," Mihoshi sighed. "Thank the gods for tutors and hypno-cramming." She reached for the sake bottle. "But after a while it got boring. It seemed like such a limited future. I wanted something more, something with a little excitement to it, with travel possibilities, but still with a way to help people. My grandfather suggested the Galaxy Police, so I looked into it and liked what I saw. I added a minor in law enforcement to my studies, graduated, and then went to the GP academy."

"So you're an empath. I always wondered why the Galaxy Police accepted you," Ryoko said.

"Well, it didn't hurt that my grandfather is the Marshall..."

"It still seems like such an odd choice, since you dislike violence so much."

"That's the bad side of the job, and fortunately there isn't that much of it."

"What about Tenchi?"

"He's the only guy I've ever met that really didn't want something from me. Most guys were just trying to get me between the sheets, or used me as the patsy for their jokes and pranks. If I had a credit for every guy that hurt my feelings I'd be richer than a baron. But it's more than gratitude, I think — I look into his eyes and feel a connection, a linkage, that I've never felt with anyone else. I see you cringe when I say he's my destiny, but I feel intuitively that our futures are bound together. I can't explain it. But it's real. And he's so-o-o nice, and so-o-o cute..."

"We noticed," Ryoko and Ayeka drawled.

"And I've noticed how much pain you two endure. You have so much in common, despite the outward differences, that you could be close friends. What is so heartbreaking is that because you are rivals for Tenchi, and you are so busy competing with each other, that you don't see the anguish you are causing him. He's not blind or stupid. But why should he show anyone any kind of affection when the price is so high? It's no wonder he runs away — from his feelings, from that decision, and sometimes from all of us when the stress level rises." She sipped her sake. "I think we all carry burdens from our past. And maybe we're scared that Tenchi will reject us because of that past."

"He really doesn't ask us much about our pasts, does he?" Ryoko said.

"No," Ayeka answered. "And that's why he's so special: he just accepts us as we are. Such a rare person..."

"Gee, 'Mom,' you sure have been quiet over there. Too much sake?" Ryoko asked, noticing Washu stirring her sake.

"No, I've just been listening."

"We've shared our thoughts and concerns, perhaps you should, too." Ayeka suggested.

"Yeah, 'Mom.' Let's hear your confession."

"I'm afraid you might be rather disappointed."

"Let us be the judge of that," Ryoko replied.

"Just think of it like taking a turn on a karaoke machine," Mihoshi offered.

"I'm not sure that's such a useful analogy," Ayeka hiccupped.

"Oh, I don't know. I rather like it. You ladies have been singing for quite a while. Almost in harmony, really."

"I don't understand that," Sasami said.

"I don't think they do, either, Sasami. Just look for common themes in what they said, almost like a chorus — "

"Come on, Washu, let's hear the good stuff," Ryoko splashed a bit of water at her mother.

"Ok, what do you want to hear about?"

Ryoko, Ayeka, Mihoshi: "Tenchi."

"He is without a doubt the most interesting, fascinating, loveable person I've met in 20,000 years. And I'm drawn to him, too, although belly-bumping him isn't necessarily the first thing I think of."

"But what about that sample you tried to take from him?" Mihoshi asked.

"What sample?" Ryoko and Ayeka chorused.

"See what I mean about harmonizing? Washu said to Sasami.

Sasami giggled.

"Oh, I was just running some medical tests on him after his fight with Kagato. I've never met a Power adept with such capabilities before."

"So why did you have him stripped to his underwear?" Mihoshi persisted.

"His underwear?" Ryoko and Ayeka chorused.

Sasami giggled again.

"Relax, ladies. There hasn't been a man in my life in centuries. And the ones that followed my husband were so disappointing I swore off of them."

"Not forever, I think," Ryoko said skeptically.

"No, not forever. And if Tenchi asked, I would accept. But it seems unlikely. One minute he treats me like a little sister, and the next minute he treats me like a sorceress. He's probably more scared of me than he is of you three combined. It's a stable arrangement for the time being."

"How did you fall into Kagato's clutches?" Ayeka asked.

"He was a graduate assistant of mine at the time I created Ryoko and Ryo-ohki, and he did some of the detail work on the design of the Souja. I discovered too late that he had several illegal enterprises running on the side. He kidnapped me and Ryoko and Ryo-ohki, and put us in stasis until long after he had built his ship. Ryoko, you may not remember, but I was with you for a little while, back in the very beginning. I raised you until you were a toddler and scampering around the Souja's nursery, because Kagato was too busy and uninterested. But he eventually decided that it was time to take over your training, and when he realized that I wasn't going to help him create others like you, he put me back in that box and threw away the key. I was only dimly aware of what you were doing, what you were feeling, but I was never really cut off from you. I had my own taste of hell."

"I do remember someone singing me to sleep, and cradling me during the dark times. I suppose it was you I cried out for when he beat me and starved me, and later, when he..." Ryoko sobbed.

Washu slid over to comfort her daughter. "It's alright now, Ryoko. Tenchi made sure he will never hurt us again."

"Tenchi..."

"That's so sad!" Mihoshi wailed.

Sasami noticed that Ayeka was sniffling, too. "Are you going to cry like Mihoshi?"

"How ridiculous. It must be the sake."

"Well, you four are getting awfully flushed, and your speech is starting to slur a little."

"There you go. Speaking of sake, this bottle is empty. Can you fetch another from that bucket over there?"

"Sure." She climbed out of the pool.

"We still haven't resolved the major issue here," Washu finally said. "You ladies must back off long enough for him to make up his mind."

"**If** he will make up his mind. I just can't bear the thought of being spurned," Ayeka replied.

"Neither can I," Ryoko sniffed.

"Nor me," Mihoshi said through her sake cup.

"No one is asking you to leave him alone. I'm just suggesting that you give him a little more room. Maybe you should look for other distractions. Go into town once in a while. This planet is full of humans, I seem to recall. Some of them might be interesting to talk to. "

"None like Tenchi," Ryoko whispered.

"Are you looking for his replacement?"

"No!"

"Then what do you have to lose?"

"If he thinks we're losing interest, won't he look elsewhere, too?" Mihoshi asked.

"There is that risk. But great risks often bring great rewards," Washu answered.

"This advice sounds peculiar coming from you," Ayeka said.

"I've spent some time thinking about what Tenchi said, too. Maybe I do need to see daylight once in a while." She sipped her sake, studying her Companions. "What I think is called for here is a non-aggression pact."

"A what?" asked Ryoko.

"A non-aggression pact. That's where you characters agree to stop fighting in the house, and to settle your little disagreements when Tenchi is not around."

"I dunno..." Ryoko hesitated.

"You don't have to be best buddies, just postpone your arguments 'till he leaves. Besides, the fights are usually over something immediate, and by the time you cool off you can't remember what started them in the first place. Rather juvenile behavior, isn't it?"

"I am willing to give it a try," said Ayeka, extending her hand towards Ryoko.

"Ok, I guess it can't do any harm." Ryoko shook Ayeka's hand.

Washu noticed Sasami standing by the transparent wall, watching something intently. "What are you looking at, Sasami?"

"Tenchi's back."

"He is?" Ryoko, Ayeka, and Mihoshi chorused.

"He's practicing with Yosho." The others left the pool and stood beside her. On the lawn beside the Masaki house they could see Yosho and Tenchi performing a very slow, synchronized exercise. It was obvious that they were both concentrating very hard.

"What are they doing?" Mihoshi asked.

"It looks like Tai Chi, or a Juraian equivalent," Ayeka answered.

"Is it just me, or are Tenchi's hands glowing?"

"I believe you're right. Very impressive..."

It was then that Tenchi happened to glance upward and see the five nearly naked half-drunken females watching him. He got flustered and out of step, and Yosho berated him. The ladies all giggled.

"Looks like he's having trouble keeping his focus," Ayeka offered.

"So are we," Mihoshi replied solemnly.

Ayeka, Ryoko, and Sasami glanced curiously at Mihoshi, but Washu silently nodded in agreement.

**ACT 3 - FRIDAY MORNING**

They began to notice the changes almost immediately.

On Monday morning, Tenchi awoke to the now-normal sight of Ryoko's bloodshot eyes staring down at him. As usual, she had hovered above his bed for a fair portion of the night, watching over him while he slept. Tenchi's startle reflex usually kicked-in, sending him crawling frantically for the door, with Ryoko trying vainly to calm him. This morning, however, he just studied her.

"Good morning, Tenchi," she cooed. He hadn't screamed yet, which was a good sign.

"Good morning, Ryoko," he replied. And then he did something completely unexpected: he made room for her on the bed and patted the empty space, indicating she should join him.

"Really?" She slid under the covers in one lithe movement. She started to snuggle up to him, only to realize that he was getting out of bed. "Oh, don't leave..."

"Sorry, Ryoko, but I have to. However, you're welcome to sleep here while I'm gone, as long as you make the bed when you're done."

She started to pout until she realized that the covers were still warm, and his scent permeated the sheets and pillows. She smiled then, settling down for a long nap. "Ok. Have a nice day, Tenchi. I'll dream about you."

He grinned, gathered his clothes, and slipped down the hall to the bathroom. When he returned, she was snoring softly, completely oblivious to his puttering around. He bumped into Ayeka as he opened the door, and the smile on her face turned to shock when she spotted Ryoko asleep in his bed. However, before she could even open her mouth he placed a finger on her lips. "Relax, she's only been there for five minutes."

"Just what is she doing in your bed?" Ayeka asked suspiciously.

"I told her she could sleep there, since I'm leaving for school. I didn't see any harm in it. Now," he said, extending his arm towards her, "would you care to join me for breakfast?"

Her argument sputtered out when she realized he had just issued her an invitation. And the prospect of a meal without her rival present was more than enough to change her mood. She smiled sweetly and took his arm. "Yes, Lord Tenchi, I would."

The curious glances around the table were even more pronounced when Tenchi asked Sasami to save Ryoko's breakfast for her — she would eat later, since she was sleeping in his room at present. Curiosity turned to disbelief when Ayeka simply laughed it off (she was in on the joke, and could now appreciate the humor of the situation). From Ayeka's perspective it was a marvelous meal — there were no arguments, no tension, and she monopolized Tenchi's attention with absolutely no interference. She watched him leave for the bus stop with a perfectly contented sigh. And when Ryoko did wake up later, her sly comments and sleazy innuendoes about sleeping in Tenchi's room all fell flat. Neither of them felt like fighting for the whole day, as each of them savored their respective tactical victory.

############

Mihoshi had been wandering the woods near the bus stop when she heard it drop off Tenchi. She met him, smiling amiably. She expected the usual clumsy chatter and polite brush-off. Instead he sat on a log and invited her to join him. "What were you looking for?"

"Well, I happened to see these birds fly over this morning. They look an awful lot like some of the birds on my home-world. So, after my chores were done, and I had finished my afternoon nap, I decided to go looking for them."

"Can you describe them?"

She did, and then started describing the similar bird of her youth. They sat together for at least thirty minutes, just talking. He didn't rush her, and didn't beat a hasty retreat to the house. It was the longest conversation they had ever had. The sun continued its slide down the sky, and though it felt warm, it could not defeat the cool breeze. And it was only when their stomachs started growling that he stood up...and offered her a helping hand.

It felt warm, and strong, and he held her hand longer than necessary. Embarrassed, she pulled her hand away.

He started walking towards the house. "Don't you find it rather lonely, living so often in space?" he asked.

"Yes," she nodded. "But it can be satisfying, too. There are so many wonders out there, so many beautiful planets, and star clouds, and it's so huge. I get lost just thinking about it sometimes. And there are always interesting people. The main traffic lanes are usually full of caravans, and the ports and space stations are full of travelers, and the variety of cargo, and the stories, and the problems..."

"Maybe you should keep a journal, and write your memoirs some day."

"That's a really good idea! I think I will. Well, here we are."

"Yes, here we are. Maybe I'll meet you again tomorrow while you're looking for those birds."

"You just might," she replied. She was absolutely thrilled that he wanted to talk to her. She barely noticed that Ryoko had materialized, wrapping herself around Tenchi like a cyan-topped anaconda. Mihoshi bounced into the house, leaving Tenchi and Ryoko staring after her.

But not for long. Ryoko started pressing her breasts against his back. She expected the usual polite rebuff; instead, he placed his hands over hers, pinning her arms in place. Encouraged (not to mention surprised), she started nuzzling his ear.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"I haven't slept that well in ages."

"Glad to hear it. By the way, did anyone ever tell you how nice your hair smells?"

"Uh...no," she answered, at a loss for words.

"Well, it does." She was so flustered that he easily slipped out of her grasp and entered the house. She just stared after him, too stunned to move. Eventually, she started giggling, then laughing, and then flew to the roof in a series of spins and pirouettes. She felt like singing.

############

"Hi, Sasami."

"Oh, welcome home, Tenchi!" Sasami smiled at him from her place by the stove. She always smiled when he was around.

"Something sure smells good."

Sasami giggled. "I'm trying a new recipe."

"Need some help?"

"Sure." She steered him to the table, where she dumped a pile of vegetables in front of him and issued instructions. He sat down and rolled-up his sleeves.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Ok," she replied, sitting down across from him.

"Don't you ever get tired of cooking? I mean, you're in here three times a day, every day. Doesn't it get old?

"Oh, sometimes it does. But I like to cook, and it's my way of helping out around the house. The other girls have their chores to do, and so do you when you're not doing homework." She shrugged. "I just don't think about it much."

"But don't you get lonely here? There really isn't anybody your age to keep you company."

"Yes, but I'm used to it. Father never really let me play with other kids much back on Jurai. I had a few friends, but there were always guards around so it wasn't very private. And I never really went to school; I had tutors most of the time. And the few classes I did go to were with kids from noble families (and they weren't very nice to me). I like it here much better."

"Would you like to go school here on Earth?"

"I'd like to try it for a while, but I don't know how long we'll be here. It would be a shame to make some friends, and then have to leave them. I worry about that happening with you."

"With me?"

"Yes. I don't want to leave here unless you're coming, too."

Tenchi was touched. "Frankly, I haven't given it much thought, but I can see you have." He changed the subject. "Have you heard from your parents?"

"Oh, sure. The Royal Trees stay in contact with one another, and we pass messages along. And the little courier 'bots show-up occasionally with mail." Tenchi had seen them, bringing Ayeka and Sasami small packages and clothing, and sometimes little gifts for him. "Mommy and Half-Mommy Funaho like to hear all about what we're doing, and they ask lots of questions about you and Yosho. Oh, there goes the timer!" And she scampered off.

############

"Little Washu, do you have a moment?" It was Tenchi, of course. Washu had been expecting him to wander down to her lab. No doubt he had been sorting his memories of Saturday's experiment, and now he had some questions. She saved the program she was running, and turned away from her keyboard. He was standing just inside the doorway, looking around at the machines humming away in the darkness. He was nervous, but determined.

"Sure, Tenchi, come on in." She summoned a chair for him, which hovered next to her workstation. Once he was seated upon it, it adjusted its height so that they were face-to-face. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I've been thinking about that hypnosis session, and some of the things I said during it."

"Anything in particular?"

"Quantum patterns."

She was surprised. He had shown little interest in the sciences before, other than asking for help on homework assignments. "What about them?"

"Well, ever since being hypnotized, I have the oddest sensation that I can 'see' patterns for different objects. I can clearly see the Lighthawk Sword when I concentrate, and the wings. But I'm also starting to see patterns for little things, like books and plates and such. It's a little unnerving."

"I can see where it might be. Actually, it's not unusual for advanced Power users. You're about the right age for those abilities to manifest. They usually require some kind of trigger, or some serious meditation, for the adept to become aware of them. Apparently, our experiment acted as a trigger."

Tenchi relaxed. "Whew, and I thought I was going nuts."

"No, you're not going nuts. Just realizing some potentials."

"Do you see these patterns?"

"Nope. Kagato did, but then he sold his soul for the ability." She watched him flinch at the mention of Kagato's name (in fact, over time it was getting easier for her to speak it — she'd have to think about that). She did not want Tenchi to associate that monster with his own capabilities, so now was as good a time as any to address the issue. "Yours is a genetic gift, courtesy of all that Juraian royal blood. You're going to find that ability increasing, and encompassing larger and more complicated structures. I think you're going to need some guidance on how to access it, and what to do with it."

Tenchi smiled. "Know a good tutor?"

"It just so happens that my schedule is open in the evenings."

"Would learning the mathematics behind it help?"

Again, he caught her off guard. He had been thinking. "It couldn't hurt, but it's not necessary."

"My grasp of physics isn't very good, but I'm willing to give it a shot."

"I like your attitude, Tenchi. Very well, let's get started."

############

Tenchi repeated the pattern for the following three days, allowing Ryoko to sleep in his bed, inviting Ayeka to breakfast, walking home from the bus stop with Mihoshi, helping Sasami in the kitchen, and talking to Washu after homework. Morale around the Masaki household soared.

On Friday, however, Tenchi had to leave early for a school activity. So the principals settled around the breakfast table, staring at one another glumly, depressed by his absence. It wasn't until Ayeka and Ryoko growled at one another that Washu finally raised the issue. "Haven't you ladies noticed the change around here?"

"What change?" asked Ryoko.

"You mean to tell me that you haven't noticed a change in Tenchi's behavior this week? He's finally relaxing around us."

"Now that you mention it..." Ayeka replied.

Ryoko smiled. "...he has been a lot friendlier."

"Don't you characters get it? He's making time for us. He's trying to include us in his schedule, rather than avoid us."

"Is that a result of Saturday's experiment?" Ayeka asked.

"Possibly. But I didn't plant any suggestions in his head. Maybe he's starting to reach some conclusions on his own. Or maybe it's your little non-aggression pact — there hasn't been a single argument all week. He has to have noticed."

"I dunno," Ryoko replied, "but I'm sure liking the change."

**ACT 4 - SATURDAY MORNING**

Tenchi never really got a chance to sleep in late, but on the weekends he did set his alarm back an hour. Of course, that didn't make much difference to Ryoko, who was hovering over him regardless of when he woke up. "Good morning, Tenchi."

"Good morning, Ryoko." Again, he invited her down on the bed. Again, she accepted. Only this time he didn't move when she snuggled up to him.

"You don't have to rush off to school today," she purred. She rubbed his chest, blowing in his ear. Her intentions were obvious.

"No, I don't. But there is something I wanted to ask you."

"Oh?"

"Would you like to join me at practice this afternoon? I talked to Grandpa about it, and he thought it was a good idea."

At first, Ryoko was disappointed. She had hoped for some-thing much more immediate and intimate. However, the more she considered the invitation, the more intriguing it sounded. For starters, Ayeka never attended sword practice; actually, it was off-limits to all of them (something about distracting Tenchi...go figure). The fact that he had just invited her spoke volumes. She warmed to the idea, and her face reflected it. "Yes, Tenchi, I would like to join you."

He returned her smile. "Good. I was hoping you would."

And then he was quiet, lost in thought. She was content to simply cuddle, knowing the moment wouldn't last long, but savoring it while it did.

############

It was still early morning, and Yosho was sweeping the shrine steps when Ayeka and Sasami found him. Ayeka touched his shoulder to get his attention. "Yes, Little Sisters, what can I do for you?"

"Sasami has been having nightmares about Tsunami again," Ayeka replied. Sasami nodded.

"So, do you talk to Tsunami very often when you're awake?" He sat down on one of lower steps.

"Well...no. She scares me." Sasami sat down on the step beside her older half-brother, while Ayeka sat down behind her.

"Why?"

"Because the older I get, the more I will get swallowed by her." She expected Yosho to laugh at her, or mock her. He did neither.

"Are you afraid of disappearing completely?"

"Yes."

"I don't think that will happen."

"What makes you say that?"

"It didn't happen to Tenchi, did it?"

"Huh?"

"Tenchi wears similar marks on his forehead to yours. That is Tsunami's brand, isn't it?"

"Yes." She reached up and touched the twin polygons above her brow. She remembered seeing the arrow-shaped marks on Tenchi's forehead when he wore his Juraian battle garb. Like hers, they often glowed with their own internal Power.

"And didn't she integrate with him, during that fight with Kagato? He said he heard her voice in his mind, and she planted Power secrets there."

"Well, yes."

"Tenchi seems little changed. A bit smarter perhaps, due to Tsunami, but basically the same old Tenchi." He tipped his head and raised his eyebrows.

"I hadn't thought of that. But still, she will be a lot more integrated with me than with Tenchi."

"Whether you fall in a puddle or fall in a lake, you still get wet. What difference does the depth make?"

"None, I guess." She studied her toes, lost in thought.

"You have much more experience integrating with another personality than Tenchi does. Perhaps you should spend less time worrying about it and offer to help him. I think he would appreciate it."

Sasami perked up noticeably. "What a neat idea! But it might take a while."

"It seems to me you will have many years to work on the task."

"Thanks, Yosho!" she said, visibly relieved by their short talk. She gave him a big hug and ran off to find Tenchi.

"The role of elder suits you well, Yosho," Ayeka said, rising.

"I've had a few opportunities to practice," he replied, also rising.

"Thank you, Big Brother."

"You're welcome, Little Sister," he said returning to his sweeping.

############

Ryoko was breathing hard and sweating buckets. She had just finished sparring with Tenchi. The first round had been fun, and she had confused him by randomly teleporting or levitating, just to see how he would react. Not surprisingly, she had gotten past his guard repeatedly. However, Yosho forbid such activities for the second round, and Tenchi had gotten his revenge by chasing her all over the practice yard. Damn, the kid was good! Not surprising, really, since Yosho had been training him for years, and Yosho was the only person to ever defeat her. Afterwards, they had crumpled together into the shade, draped over their practice swords. She smiled at him, he grinned back.

"I must say, Ryoko, for being out of practice you gave a good account of yourself."

"Thanks," she wheezed.

"Would you like to hear an evaluation?" She nodded, so he continued. "You are without a doubt the strongest fencer I have ever met. Your superior strength and enhanced abilities to phase shift, teleport, and levitate give you a tremendous advantage, as do your missile weapons. You are a formidable opponent. However, when restricted to skill alone, you are easily outmatched. Tenchi had the upper hand in the last round and kept you on the defensive the entire time."

"Tell me about it," she replied.

"If you would like, you are welcome to join us on a regular basis. Your presence here can only improve Tenchi's skills, and perhaps we can offer you something in return."

"I would like that."

"Good. Then we are done for today." His two students struggled to their feet, their thoughts confined to drinking lots of water. "May I talk to you a moment, Ryoko?"

Ryoko and Tenchi exchanged looks, and Tenchi shrugged. Yosho waited until he had disappeared into the trees before speaking.

"Ryoko, I am pleased that you came to practice today. I know Tenchi was happy."

"I enjoyed myself," she admitted.

"Have you given much thought to your future, now that you are completely free of obligations?" Meaning, of course, the statue of limitations on her criminal charges had expired.

And so had Kagato. "Not really. As long as it involves Tenchi."

"I would like to point out that Tenchi is a member of the Royal Family of Jurai. He may even ascend the throne one day. In either case, he is a major target for assassination." The response he saw in her eyes was gratifying. "He is going to need a bodyguard, someone extremely capable to watch his back. If you know of any suitable candidates, I would appreciate hearing about them."

She was absolutely thunderstruck. In one simple statement he had offered her a purpose in life with the one person who had given her life meaning. The implications were enormous; in her mind she saw a door opening on a world she hadn't even dreamed of. It took her several moments to find her voice before she could answer him. "I know someone who wants the job."

"Very good. Will we see you at our next practice?"

"I'll be here," she said. "And Yosho? Thank you."

############

The sun had just set. The sky was filled with wispy clouds that shimmered in yellows and oranges and grays, and the first stars were peeping out behind them. The azure depths were darkening, and the entire canvas reflected off the motionless lake like a polished mirror. Other than the wind, there was absolute silence.

"That was beautiful, Yosho. Thank you for inviting me to share it with you," Ayeka dipped her head towards her brother, who returned it solemnly. They sat on the end of the dock which extended from the Masaki residence. The lights in the house were starting to come on, and the sounds of conversation could be heard drifting down the wind.

"Yes, it is very peaceful out here. Not too chilly tonight, which makes it more enjoyable."

Ayeka was silent for a few moments, considering, and then reached a decision. "May I ask you a question?"

"Yes."

"Why is it you never sent any messages back to Jurai after landing here?"

"My drive engines and communications were damaged in the battle with Ryoko. I couldn't leave without extensive repairs, and I couldn't call for help."

"I meant through Funaho." She gestured towards the woods where Yosho's Royal Tree had taken root. The trees were the culmination of centuries of genetic engineering, whose full capabilities were a closely kept secret of the Juraian Royal Family. One such capability was the psychic link that the trees maintained with one another. This ESPer mode of communication was limited in scope, but was instantaneous across the parsecs and totally impervious to jamming. It was one of the reasons all members of the Royal Family were paired with them.

"At first I asked her not to tell anyone where we were. I thought it wise to watch Ryoko's tomb for awhile. By the time I was satisfied that her prison was a stable one, Funaho and I had both set down roots. This became our home."

"Our trees could sense Funaho entering dormancy, but did not know where she was. It was assumed, though, that if she still lived then so did you."

"And I assumed search parties would arrive here eventually. Or the locals would develop sufficient technology to call home."

"We were worried about you." She meant **she** was worried. Frantic, actually. Which had lead to her own rescue mission, and the subsequent chain of events.

"I was safe enough here," he lied. Yosho refused to tell Ayeka the truth: that he couldn't bring himself to kill Ryoko. Even though he had witnessed Ryoko incinerate whole city blocks, and had watched her obliterate so many of his friends and comrades who had tried to stop Ryo-ohki, he couldn't do it. Once he had taken her gems, the madness in her eyes had dissipated. She had been reduced to a frightened, disoriented child, who willingly confessed to him about Kagato. He couldn't radio the Galaxy Police, since his communications were destroyed. And if he summoned help through Funaho, the Royal Family would have dispensed its own brand of justice before they ever left Earth orbit. But he couldn't let her run loose, either — she was a danger to everyone, especially herself. In the end, he had done the most merciful thing he could think of: he had placed her in that crypt to await the day that help would arrive. Of course, Ryoko hadn't been alone in her suffering. He had been forced to defend this valley many times over the years. A metal sword kills just as readily as an energy sword. He, too, had blood on his hands.

"Do you think Funaho could be transported back to Jurai?"

"I do not know. Her roots are extensive...you could be looking at nearly a cubic hectare of land."

"There are engineers and botanists on Jurai that could per-form the task."

"Yes, there are. But the locals would notice the activity — particularly if a large transport spent any time moored over her pond."

"The vessel could be cloaked — "

"Have you asked Funaho if she wants to leave? Have you asked me?" He said it gently, but Ayeka still recoiled. "This little corner of Earth is quite comfortable, you know. And some-one needs to watch over the graves on the hill."

Yosho's wife and daughter — Tenchi's mother — were interred above the Masaki shrine. She knew Yosho would never leave. But her brow furrowed with another concern. "Do you think Tenchi would consent to leave Earth?"

"Yes," Yosho replied. "He is a young man, and ready to expand his horizons. He is slowly accepting the idea that his future does not reside on this planet. He has been through a great deal in the last year, and his resiliency says such much about his character."

"Well, he is your grandson," Ayeka smiled. "He could do no less."

"Still, I am concerned for him. You realize, of course, that he should never sit on the throne."

Ayeka was shocked. "Why do you say that?"

"He is too compassionate. He lacks your resolve. How did he describe you? 'An iron fist in a silken glove.' A very accurate assessment, by the way, which simply does not apply to him. However, he would make an ideal consort." He watched her face to gauge how she digested his suggestion. "With the proper training, of course."

Ayeka considered Yosho's idea. She had been so obsessed with winning Tenchi's favor that she had given no thought about what would come afterwards. Her father would be shamed by her lack of foresight and poor strategy; here was a lesson worth remembering. Yosho was correct, as usual. Tenchi had little use for politics, and was absolutely loyal. And she could rely on him to lighten her burden, with his enchanting smile and his strong arms around her..."What kind of training?" she asked finally.

"Protocol, traditions, and the requirements of whatever office he is best suited for. Our mothers went through similar training. You might ask them."

She would. And she now had a goal worth working towards.

############

It was late. The stars twinkled in the sky over the Masaki Shrine, Yosho's office was illuminated by a single desk lamp, and Yosho himself shuffled papers through the circle of light it cast. He heard the quiet footsteps on the porch, and so was not startled when the visitor knocked on his door. "Who is it?" The door slid open to reveal Washu. He motioned for her to enter. "What can I do for you at this late hour?"

"I have a few questions about Tenchi." She settled into the indicated seat opposite from him.

"And these couldn't wait until tomorrow?" he teased. Yosho was only too familiar with her odd hours. She would often work non-stop for days on one of her projects. The clock had little meaning in her dimensional laboratory.

"Well, I've been reviewing the data from his hypnosis session. While we were there, I had a hunch and set up bio-monitors on everyone in the room. The results were rather interesting."

"So, what questions do you have?"

"Did Tenchi ever have any girlfriends?"

Yosho paused to consider. "I think he had a crush or two, and there were a couple of girls he talked about. Nothing out of the ordinary. Why?"

"I just wondered if he has the same affect on Earth females that he has on the galactics living here," she answered.

"No, none of his teachers are trying to seduce him, and none of the girls in his classes seem interested in harassing him. Only the offworlders behave that way. To his schoolmates he is just an average boy."

"I thought so."

"Tell me, Little Washu, do you feel Ryoko and Ayeka are simply suffering through their first school-girl crush? Since they both have no real experience with this subject, isn't this just a phase — some temporary infatuation that will fade with the next handsome face to come along?"

"I used to think so, mixed-in with equal parts gratitude and hero-worship. I don't anymore."

"Is there a problem?" Yosho poured them each a cup of tea.

"I think Tenchi's manifesting use of Power is more significant than we realized."

"How so?"

"Except for Nobuyuki, all of us living here are Power sensitives. I can't prove it yet, but I think we are responding on some subliminal level to his rising capabilities. I think Ryoko and Ayeka, in particular, are reacting to more than just his compassion and charisma."

"Animal magnetism?" Yosho asked dubiously.

Washu shrugged. "It makes sense from a biological perspective. They can feel his capabilities on some deep level...they probably always have. Even Sasami and Mihoshi feel it, I think."

"And what about you?"

"Me, too" she admitted quietly. She sipped her tea, facing the truth.

"I take it that we males are not quite so affected?" Yosho asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Actually, I think you are. But male needs are different from female needs: you need to worry more about dominance games than choosing the best mate."

Yosho sipped his tea silently, digesting this information. Finally, he asked, "How extensive is Tenchi's grasp of matter manipulation?"

"At this point, very rudimentary. He's overwhelmed with the knowledge, and until he learns to apply it, it is just going to confuse him."

"But he will learn?"

"Eventually. He's a quick study. Must be those royal genes in his blood." Washu grinned at him. Yosho nodded at the compliment.

"Have you considered just what his full potential is?

"Yes. It's staggering, really."

"Could he duplicate Ryoko's teleportation, levitation, and phase shifting abilities?"

"I hadn't thought of that. Yes, he probably will."

"In other words, he could become another Kagato?"

"Gods, don't even think such a thing!"

"I refer to talents, not intentions."

"Oh. In that case, yes; as long as he doesn't yield to the temptations."

"Perhaps he needs a mentor, to augment his own conscience."

Washu grinned. "Are you suggesting I look like Jiminy Cricket? I am little enough, I guess..."

"I'm afraid I don't understand that reference."

"Go rent Walt Disney's Pinocchio from the video store." She set her empty teacup on the table. "But you do raise a good point. That boy is going to need a firm hand on his leash for a while, and if he gets shipped off to Jurai, there's no telling whose influence he could fall under."

"Maybe you should go along and hold his leash. He appears to have accepted you as his tutor."

"Maybe I should," she replied. "If nothing else, I can keep an eye on Ryoko. I figure she'll go wherever Tenchi goes."

############

Washu slid the door closed behind her, and then she spoke to someone coming up the steps. Yosho waited patiently, knowing that whoever was out there would enter his office momentarily.

"Grandpa, do you have a moment?"

"Yes, Tenchi, come on in." Yosho indicated the now-vacant guest chair and reached for another teacup. "It's a little late for you, isn't it?"

"I've got a lot on my mind."

"Well, a shared burden is a lighter burden. Tell me about it."

Tenchi accepted the cup of tea. "Last Sunday I woke up in the middle of the night after having a terrible dream. I was disoriented, and it took me awhile to calm down enough to realize that it had been only a dream."

"Go on," Yosho prompted, blowing on his refilled teacup.

"In my dream I had run away from here. Gone off with the fishing fleets, or joined the military, or moved to America, something...I don't remember. But I was gone. And I had hurt everyone here because they felt that I had pushed them away so often, and for so long, that they finally turned their backs on me. Everyone left Earth."

"Where did they all go?"

"Ryoko and Ryo-ohki just took off one day, without saying goodbye to anyone. Someone thought that they had followed this spiral arm out to the frontier worlds, but no one knew for sure.

"Ayeka and Sasami went back to Jurai. Ayeka married some baron's son and bore his children. She was not happy, but she had fulfilled her duties. And Sasami married some princeling and moved out of the empire entirely.

"Mihoshi was transferred clear across the galaxy, and simply dropped out of sight.

"Washu went into her lab one day, closed the door behind her, and it vanished. No one could reach her any more.

"And a huge spaceship arrived one day, scooped Funaho and her lake clear out of the ground, and took you both back to Jurai.

"And in the end, when I finally returned home, the only person left here was Dad. The shrine had been neglected for so long it was falling apart. The house wasn't much better. And when we went up the hill to see the graves, they were nearly hidden under weeds and tall grass. 'This house darkened the day your mother died,' Dad said, 'but when you left it died completely. My whole life has been nothing but bitter loneliness. And that's all I have to bequeath to you, Son.' And then he just faded away.

"And I ran through the fields yelling that I had made a terrible mistake, and begging them all to come back, and that I didn't want to be alone any more...and then I woke up gasping and sweating."

"A troubling dream," Yosho replied.

"And it was so vivid...now I know what Sasami goes through. In fact, as I lay there thinking about it, I wondered if it was the same kind of precognitive dream she has. We share the same blood, after all. It scared me even more just thinking that this might be my future. Anyway, I couldn't go back to sleep, and I didn't want to wake the whole house up with my pacing. So I snuck downstairs, packed a lunch, and went for a long walk."

"What conclusions did you reach?"

"I dunno. I'm hoping it was just a warning of what **might** happen if I keep pushing everyone away. I know how those girls feels about me...heck, I heard Ryoko and Ayeka during that experiment. I think I've been acting like a jerk."

"It seems to me that you've been trying to change lately."

"Yeah, I have. It's not much, but I want them each to know how much I appreciate them."

"I think they already know that, Tenchi."

"They want so much from me...what should I do?"

"For now, nothing more than you have been doing. You have obligations here to attend to, and they accept that. And a little bit of attention does go a long way; they appear content for now."

"For now," Tenchi echoed. "What about the future?"

"The future will take of itself. You have another year of school left, and much can change during that time. Enjoy your time with them, and let them enjoy their time with you."

############

Yosho listened to Tenchi's footsteps fade into the darkness. He extinguished his desk lamp and followed his grandson outside. He settled onto the steps and gazed upwards. The stars were liberally sprinkled across the heavens. They twinkled merrily, and beckoned to him. Many times over the years he had questioned his choice, his decision to anchor his life here. But he had never regretted it. The years spent with his late wife were worth all the voyages he had ever taken between those suns, and he would gladly make that same decision again.

The Masaki house was finally quiet. It was seldom silent any more. The hollow lack of sound and warmth that had haunted this residence for so many years had finally been banished, hopefully forever. There had been so much pain here, in the years after his daughter's death. It said much that it took five females to fill the void in his grandson's heart left by his mother's demise. And yet, fill it they did...in their own disorganized, chaotic way. Tenchi's instincts had been telling him all along that he needed them.

His grandson wasn't the only person to lack focus. So did the Ladies, which is why there was so little harmony in their lives. Perhaps they instinctively recognized Tenchi as the focus they needed, but just couldn't correctly grasp how to deal with the situation. Sometimes instinct needed a helping hand.

Satisfied, he stood, brushed the dirt from his robes, and headed off to bed.

**========================== Author's Notes =============================**

As is usual, I came late to the party. I watched the 13 "Tenchi Muyo" OAV episodes with my youngest daughter (a teenager) and got hooked, and then discovered it was ten years old and out of fashion in Japan these days (Spring 2001). It appears to be going through a twilight period of sorts here in the States, but having watched a couple of the movies and some of the television episodes, I have to say a good story has been terribly diluted by all the mutations to other mediums. How sad.

So, call me a purist. I'll stick with the OAVs, and mourn what might have been.

This story takes place after the OAV series, with many references to Kagato Akara (episodes #5 and #6), Dr. Clay (episodes #11 and #12) and Lord Seriyu Tennen (episode #13).

The title, obviously, is the Japanese term for focus, as applied in the martial arts.

If you were thrown off by Tenchi's techno-babble during the hypnosis experiment, I would recommend the following web-sites (written in shirtsleeve English):

"Subtle Connections: Psi, Grof, Jung, and the Quantum Vacuum" _- URL stripped by editor_  
"Toward A Physical Foundation For PSI Phenomena" _- URL stripped by editor_  
"Can the Vacuum be Engineered for Spaceflight Applications? Overview of Theory and Experiments"_- URL stripped by editor_

I've done some writing in the past, but I've never tried my hand at playing with other people's characters before. A bit of a challenge, but I don't think I did any serious damage.

The characters of Tenchi Muyo were created by Masaki Kajashima, and brought to North America by Pioneer LDC. This story, while incorporating names and situations held under copyright by others, is copyright 2001 by Jeffery L. Harris.

This story comes entirely from my imagination, and is not, nor intended to be, canon. Please do not send the legions of lawyers after me...it's not worth their time, or mine.

Any questions or comments should be directed to:

Jeffery L Harris


	3. EPISODE 2  We Belong

_Many times I've tried to tell you  
Many times I've cried alone  
Always I'm surprised how well you  
Cut my feelings to the bone  
Don't want to leave you really  
I've invested too much time  
To give you up that easy  
To the doubts that complicate your mind _

_Chorus:  
We Belong to the light  
We Belong to the thunder  
We Belong to the sound of the words  
We've both fallen under  
Whatever we deny or embrace  
For worse or for better  
We Belong, We Belong  
We Belong together _

_Maybe it's a sign of weakness  
When I don't know what to say  
Maybe I just wouldn't know  
What to do with my strength anyway  
Have we become a habit?  
Do we distort the facts?  
Now there's no looking forward  
Now there's no turning back  
When you say _

_(Chorus) _

_Close your eyes and try to sleep now  
Close your eyes and try to dream  
Clear your mind and do your best  
To try and wash the palette clean  
We can't begin to know it  
How much we really care  
I hear your voice inside me  
I see your face everywhere  
Still you say _

_(Chorus)_

From the Pat Benatar album "Tropico"  
Written by: D. Navarro & R. Lowen Time: 3:40  
© 1984 by Screen Gems-EMI Music Inc.  
Song lyrics have been checked for accuracy against the album sleeve.

**ACT 1 - MORNING**

Ryo-ohki was the first to sense the ship. It was hard to mew through a mouth full of carrot, but the sound was disturbing enough to draw attention.

"What is it, Ryo-ohki?" asked Sasami.

"She says there's a ship approaching," Ryoko answered. Activity around the breakfast table clattered to a halt, and there was a general movement towards the front door.

A warp bubble had appeared in the sky over the Masaki house by the time they had gathered outside. A small vessel drifted out of the maelstrom and hovered until the portal faded, and then continued its controlled descent.

"It looks like a courier of some sort," Mihoshi noted.

"Yes, and it appears to have the royal seal affixed to the prow," Ayeka added.

"Probably some flunky delivering a message," Washu observed. "One of these days the locals are going to catch sight of one of those ships coming or going, and then our privacy here will be ancient history."

"Still, we should observe proper protocol and greet our guest," Ayeka said.

"I don't think this concerns me," Nobuyuki said, "So I'm going back in and finish breakfast. Tenchi? Father?"

"I think I'll stay here, Dad," Tenchi replied. His grandfather nodded agreement.

The craft was a little larger than the house, and settled into the lake with minimal fuss. After a few moments of maneuvering dockside, the hatch opened and the gantry extended itself down to the dock. A figure appeared in the opening, and then stepped slowly forward, shielding his eyes from the morning glare. His idly rustling robes bore the royal emblazon. He was heavyset and heavily bearded, and his dark hair was braided in a series of ringlets that spilled over his shoulders and bounced as he walked. His face was screwed into a frown, as though he had bitten sour fruit.

"Well, he sure looks like a flunky," Washu said.

"But an important one," Mihoshi answered. An official recording 'bot drifted behind him, its sensor array swiveling regularly, missing nothing. "Maybe I should get my uniform on."

"It's a little too late for that," Washu said. "Besides, the way he keeps staring at Tenchi suggests that's who he is here to see." At the mention of Tenchi's name, Ryoko latched onto his right arm, while Ayeka grasped his left hand.

The figure strode slowly up to the group, bowed formally, and spread his hands. "Greetings to the Masaki Household, and my apologies for this intrusion. My humble greetings to their Highnesses, Princess Ayeka, Princess Sasami, and Prince Tenchi. I am Baron Kitsune, special envoy for His Majesty Emperor Azusa. His Majesty has been considering the future needs of his grandson, Prince Tenchi, and wishes to inform the prince of His plans. Thus, I have been dispatched to convey His Majesty's intentions, and to inform His Majesty of any responses made by the prince. It is in that capacity that I have traveled from Jurai, and do request an audience as soon as is convenient." Which, of course, meant right now.

Yosho cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Your Excellency, would you step this way please?" Yosho led the Baron and his robot towards the house, trailed by the remaining family members.

Tenchi was nervous. As usual. He had learned not to squirm, but his friends knew him well enough to recognize the other signs. He had seated himself on the sofa, flanked by Ayeka and Sasami. Washu, Ryoko, and Mihoshi stayed a discreet distance behind the sofa, but clearly in the Baron's line-of-sight. Yosho was practically invisible where he kneeled by the door, soon joined by Nobuyuki.

There was a smattering of small talk, as Ayeka and Sasami inquired about their parents, various other family members, and such. It became quickly apparent that while the Baron was deferential to Sasami, he practically fawned over Ayeka — but he looked down his nose at Tenchi as much as he could politely get away with. Ryoko noticed it and quietly asked Washu about it.

"Tenchi is not full-blooded Juraian," Washu replied bitterly. "I see the aristocratic contempt for half-breeds hasn't faded over the years." Ryoko growled, her growing dislike for the emissary becoming more obvious. "Mind your manners, Ryoko, so we don't cause any more damage to Tenchi's already fragile respectability." Ryoko went silent, but her body language was plainly readable. She wanted to put her arms around Tenchi, to protect him, to support him — and she wanted to blast the envoy with several well-placed energy bolts.

"If you would be kind enough to relay my father's wishes, we will delay you as little as possible," said Ayeka. She had overheard the exchange behind her, and her reaction was similar to Ryoko's. She, however, was too well trained to reveal those emotions. She kept her expression neutral and her voice business-like.

"His Majesty has made three requests, but he has done so reluctantly. This action was prompted by the growing realization among the populace that there is a new prince. Stories of his escapades are spreading. His whereabouts have remained a secret, but it is only a matter of time before his location is known. The Royal Family has many enemies, some exceedingly dangerous, and the prince is plainly at a vulnerable period in his development. The Galaxy Police has been kept informed through the efforts of its on-site liaison," the Baron indicated Mihoshi, "and has quietly increased the number of patrols in this sector."

"And what are these requests, Baron?" Ayeka asked.

The Baron counted on an upraised finger: "First, Prince Tenchi must be presented at Court, before the full Peerage and the Council."

"Excuse me, Baron, but I would appreciate an explanation of 'being presented at Court.' While I expect that a certain amount of display is expected of royalty, I do not want to be trotted about like a prize pet."

"Good for you, Tenchi," Washu whispered. Ryoko nodded in agreement.

"It is a mere formality, I assure you. A convenient opportunity to quell the many false rumors that are spreading, to confirm the continuation of the Juraian bloodline, and a chance to improve the morale of the populace. I guarantee that it is all harmless ceremony."

The Baron continued: "Second, Prince Tenchi must attend an approved Juraian academy, to receive proper political and military indoctrinations, as well as to learn fully of his heritage."

"Uh, I've already made applications to colleges here on Earth. My plans are to stay here, finish my education, and start a career. And a family, too, eventually."

"With who?' Ryoko wondered.

"I am afraid that His Majesty was a bit more insistent on this request. This planet is a backwater; its technological level is simply unacceptable, and it has no knowledge of galactic affairs. A member of the Juraian Royal Family must be kept fully informed of the past, present and future of the empire. Your preference for this provincial lifestyle is understandable, but you must also accept the fact that you have inherited duties that cannot be ignored. Like it or not, you are a member of the nobility with obligations to satisfy."

The Baron concluded: "Third, Lord Tenchi must choose a wife, and dismiss the other candidates from his household."

Tenchi's throat constricted. He swallowed carefully before answering. "I'm too young for marriage. Ask me in five years, I may be ready by then."

"His Majesty was most insistent on this point. Pre-adolescent betrothal is an ancient custom, and provides stability and predictability. Princess Ayeka was betrothed at a very early age, and Lady Sasami is at the proper age now. The other two points may be negotiable, but not this one. You must choose a bride. Today. My shuttle is available to transport the others anywhere they wish to go."

Tenchi's shoulders slumped. "I can't make any kind of decision like that, at least, not immediately. I will need to think about it for a while."

"I will stay until local sunset, Lord Tenchi, and then I must return to Jurai."

Tenchi stood, forcing the Baron to do likewise. He bowed to the ladies on either side, bowed to the envoy, and headed for the door.

"Tenchi...?"

"Let him go, Ryoko. He needs some time alone." Washu placed a hand on her daughter's arm, lightly restraining her.

"Lady Washu? May I have a word with you in private?"

Washu turned to face the Baron. "Sure," she replied. "Let's take a walk outside." However, she had only taken two paces before turning to look directly at the envoy's mechanical shadow. "Private means off-the-record, Your Excellency."

"If you insist." He made a gesture to the autoscribe, which froze in place.

They left the building, Washu steering him down the path towards the Masaki shrine. The sunshine felt warm and reassuring, filtering through the trees in random blobs. The birds sang and the leaves rustled. She hoped these would calm Tenchi's mind for the decisions he was going to have to make.

"Lady Washu, His Majesty spent only a few moments with the boy on his previous trip, which was frankly insufficient to make a valid judgment of his personality. We have gleaned various facts from Inspector Mihoshi's reports, and correspondence from the princesses. But these lacked a certain, eh, impartiality. All three ladies seem highly taken with the prince."

"They are indeed, Your Excellency."

"But what is so attractive about him? He seems rather unimpressive."

"Tenchi is a very quiet, very shy, very serious person. There have been few female influences in his life, and he has trouble dealing with them. He hates to say no to anybody, particularly when it's a pretty young face with fluttering eyelashes and a shining smile. In the last year he has had to accommodate not one, but five female galactics moving in with him. The friction can be quite intense some days, and everyone competes for his attention."

"Including you?"

"Including me. I'm not quite as intimidating as some of others, you see, so I don't often get involved with the day-to-day brawling."

"Brawling? Don't tell me the princesses are subjected to violence here."

"Half the time _they_ instigate the violence. They are not quite the delicate flowers you might have imagined. And it is almost always over Tenchi."

"I find that hard to believe."

"You haven't seen the effect he has on everyone. He is loyal, dependable, courageous, and has willingly risked his life for us. He's also cute, which definitely appeals to the feminine side."

"Then this is more complex than some simple adolescent infatuation?"

"Well, maybe Sasami's crush on him is just puppy-love, but it goes deeper than that with everyone else."

"Would he make a proper monarch?"

"Someday, yes. Right now, he's still very immature."

"But you admire this boy?"

"Admire him? I adore him."

############

Ayeka was wrapped in nothing but a towel and sandals, looking forward to a good soak in the pool. She had much to think about, and was anxious about the decision Tenchi must make. It wasn't until she was at the water's edge that she noticed Ryoko, sitting in one corner of the pool, brooding silently. Ayeka was simply in no mood for an argument, which is really all she expected from Ryoko. However, she was already poolside, and to back away now would be expressly bad form.

"Oh. Hello, Ayeka," Ryoko said. "Come on in, I'll try not to disturb you."

Ayeka was more than a little surprised. No banter, no teasing, and the tone of her voice was definitely flat. "Thank you," she replied, and entered the pool. Once settled, she couldn't help studying her rival. Ryoko looked like she had been weeping: her eyes were puffy, some of the moisture on her face could have been tears, and her nose was runny. She had a weary, defeated look about her. In her hand was a cup, but she had been ignoring it. "Is that sake you're drinking?"

"No," she said softly. "It's tea. The sake is over in that bucket. Help yourself."

Ayeka was definitely interested now. She had not seen Ryoko so withdrawn since the battle with Kagato. All Ryoko's defenses were down, and if Ayeka really wanted to settle old scores, there would never be a better opportunity. She considered venting her own anxieties on this helpless opponent, and dismissed it as unworthy. She didn't much like Ryoko, but she did respect her. She was also profoundly curious. "May I have some tea?"

Ryoko passed her the tray containing the teapot and cups, and returned to her brooding.

Ayeka took the time to pour herself a cup and readjust her position before speaking, "What is wrong, Ryoko?"

"I've lost him," she said simply. Ayeka knew whom she meant.

"How can you be so sure?"

"The competition is too great. I can't fight you and your father."

"Are you conceding defeat?"

"I won't have to. He'll make the decision for me."

"I believe I know how you feel."

"None of you know how I feel. He's the one person who has ever shown me any kindness and consideration and compassion. He's even risked his life for me — to save my hide when no one else gave a damn — and he's never wanted anything in return...though I would give him anything he asked for. I love him with every fabric of my being. I'm just so afraid that one day he'll be gone, and I will have nothing left."

"You have Washu."

"Yeah, I'd have good old 'Mom.' But where was she all the years I needed her? Locked away by that bastard Kagato. Not very comforting."

"What will you do if he chooses another?"

"I don't know. I can't go back to the old ways. I don't have such a black heart anymore, thanks to Tenchi. Maybe a one-way trip into the nearest star..."

"You have been assuming Lord Tenchi will choose me. He might not."

Ryoko snorted.

"Are you basing your opinion on his lack of attention? Your overwhelming displays of affection have scared him off so many times — "

"I don't have your pedigree, or training in the gentle arts. I prefer things simple and direct."

"Very well: I will be honest with you, since you have been honest with me. I don't believe he will choose me, either."

"And why not? You have everything a man could want. Beauty...wealth...prestige...and your father is ruler of an interstellar empire."

"Where is love in that equation? Lord Tenchi has not shown me any preference in the past. I believe he cares deeply for me, but is it love? My heart will break if I see him choose another."

"If he does, your father will find another suitor for you."

"If you could not find another man like Lord Tenchi, what makes you think my father can?"

They were interrupted by the _slap-slap-slap_ of sandalled feet behind them, and then Mihoshi said, "Hi." She was standing at the water's edge, wrapped in nothing but a towel. "Do you mind if I join you?" Since neither Ayeka nor Ryoko objected, she waded into the pool. "Is that tea? Can I have a cup?" Ayeka passed along the tray. "Are you as nervous as I am?" She fanned herself, shaking sweat droplets off her brow. The waves she created disturbed the pool.

"Yes," Ayeka replied. "We are waiting anxiously for Lord Tenchi's decision."

"It's going to be a real heart-breaker. After I leave here I'll write to you, if you'll give me your addresses." Ayeka exchanged glances with Ryoko.

"It sounds like you don't expect to be chosen," Ayeka said.

"I don't. Tenchi is so sweet, and so cute, and so brave, but I don't think he really cares for me the way I care for him. What's the term for that? Oh, yeah, unrequited love."

"What makes you think he doesn't love you?" asked Ryoko.

"He's just so distant. He's not very affectionate. No holding hands, no hugging, no kissing."

"We've noticed," Ayeka said.

"I think he'll choose one of you two. You're the ones that fight over him the most. Most guys like that sort of thing."

"How does that make you feel?" Ryoko asked.

"Very sad. I really like Tenchi. I always hoped that he likes me."

"Well, if it's any consolation, I think you have as good a chance as either of us," Ayeka said glumly.

"So, this is where everyone is hiding" Washu said. She had come up behind them silently. She, too, was dressed for bathing.

"You might as well join us," Ryoko said. "Help yourself to some tea."

"No sake?"

"We're saving it for tonight. Someone will celebrate, the rest of us will commiserate," Ayeka replied.

Washu settled into the pool. "Not a very lively bunch."

"It shows, huh?" asked Mihoshi, handing her the tea tray.

"Yes."

"Washu, may I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure, Ayeka. What is it?"

"What was it like being married?"

Washu sipped her tea, looking into the eyes of each woman — particularly those of Ryoko. "It was wonderful, from what I remember. It was a long time ago."

"But what about the details?" Ryoko asked.

"The days were busy, the nights were passionate. He was my best friend. Look," she said candidly, "no two marriages are the same. Don't base your fantasies on my rusty memories."

"Who do you expect he will pick?" Mihoshi asked.

"Expect or hope?"

"Both."

"I expect a surprise. I hope it's me."

Ryoko groaned. "My own mother."

"And why not me? We're all older than he is. We all have something to offer. And just because I was penned-up longer than any of you, it doesn't mean the fire's died out."

"Your withdrawal was partly your own choice," Ayeka said.

"No one is immune to heartbreak," Washu replied.

They heard footsteps and turned to find the source. It was Sasami. She was fully clothed and wearing an apron. "Hi," she said. "Lunch is almost ready, but I couldn't find anyone."

"Any sign of Lord Tenchi?" Ayeka asked.

"No. I haven't seen him. He looked awful upset this morning."

"He's not alone," Ryoko muttered.

"Which one of you is he going to pick?"

"That's what we've been discussing." Ayeka answered.

"Did you figure it out?"

"No."

"He might pick you, Sasami," Washu said.

Sasami giggled. "That would be really neat, but he's too old for me."

"Now, perhaps. But if he picked you he would have to wait until you are old enough. A lot can happen during those years."

"I'm willing to wait, if he is." She remembered the stories of Ayeka's childhood betrothal. It sounded so very romantic.

"Aren't we all," Mihoshi sighed.

**ACT 2 - MID–DAY**

It was a somber group that gathered around the table for lunch. The envoy had retired to his vessel, declining Yosho's invitation to join them. Last to arrive was Tenchi, who settled into the space left for him between Ryoko and Ayeka. Absent was the normal chatter and effusive (and well-deserved) praises for Sasami's efforts. Food was sampled, manipulated, and for the most part ignored.

Nobuyuki watched his son discreetly, and counted the many furtive glances made by the women around him. Since subtlety was not his forte (some thought he consciously fostered his Chaplainesqe image), he pushed his plate away, crossed his arms and asked his son directly, "What have you decided, Tenchi?"

Tenchi rubbed his eyes wearily. "It's funny: a year ago I was like most guys my age — worried about school, following a few sports, and curious about girls. I thought I knew what I was good at, what college I wanted to attend, what career interested me. And like my friends, I had fantasies about sword fights and space battles and meeting beautiful alien women. Only, my fantasies came true...and they were far scarier than I ever imagined. The sword fights and the space battles were the easiest to accept, because they passed quickly. But the alien women...well, they do not slip quietly away.

"In the last year my life has turned upside down. For starters, I'm a member of a Royal Family that has existed for thousands of years. I find that I have powers I could never have imagined, and talents that were sleeping somewhere inside of me (I can feel both of them growing even now). I don't know where my life is going anymore. But some things will never change: my family remains my family, and this house remains my home.

"And I have five new friends...more than friends, really. They are so much more sophisticated than I am, and I am so clumsy, and they get so frustrated, and I hurt their feelings so often. And yet they are still my friends...more than friends, really. I know I will not willingly hurt any of them. And to ask me to choose one above the others is like asking me to choose one part of my heart and discard the remainder. I can't do it. I won't do it."

A heavy silence spread over the room, until Yosho cleared his throat.

"A noble sentiment, Tenchi, but you have not considered all of the options."

"It's all I've thought about for the last few hours, Grandpa."

"Ah, then of course you have considered marrying all of them?"

"Huh?" Similar responses came from around the table.

"Emperor Azusa did not see fit to limit himself to one wife, so why should you? You can find a precedent for just about anything if you look hard enough."

Ryoko's cat-like eyes flared. "Do you expect to me share MY Tenchi?"

"He's not YOUR Tenchi," Ayeka interrupted. "But I happen to agree with you this time. It would not be proper for the future Empress of Jurai to be senior wife in a harem."

"What makes you think you'd be senior wife? I'm far older, and much better qualified," Washu said.

"Is it even legal on this planet?" asked Mihoshi. "And what's a harem?"

"I'm not sure I'd like three new sisters," said Sasami. "I remember some of the arguments Mommy and Half-Mommy Funaho used to get into..."

A steamy silence settled about them until Nobuyuki said quietly, "I only had a few years to share with Tenchi's mother, and the years since her death have been terribly lonely. But I would pay that price again gladly just to have one more day with Achika." Then he rose and left the house.

"And I miss Itsuki," Yosho said. He studied each of them, and asked, "What price is your happiness worth?"

Mihoshi started sniffling.

Tenchi rose slowly from his place at the table. Ryoko clutched at him. "Tenchi, please don't leave!"

"I'm not leaving, I'm just moving over here where I can see everyone better." He stepped around Ryoko and settled into his father's place. He studied each of them for a moment, composing his thoughts. "All this talk has been about me so far. What do you ladies want to do? Ryoko?"

"When I thought I'd lost you to Kagato," she whispered, "it nearly tore my heart out. I don't ever want to feel that way again. I'll share you if I have to, but I will not leave."

"Ayeka?"

"One day I will inherit the throne of Jurai," she answered, "and one of my duties is to marry the most suitable consort I can find. That's the way arranged marriages work. My heart has no say in it. But you are the most suitable consort I've found, and you are the choice of my heart. If an Emperor can choose a cluster marriage, an Empress can do no less."

"Sasami?"

"I don't really understand all of this," she answered, "but I'm like Ayeka. I know my duties, and I know my feelings, and I know where I'd like to be. I want to stay with you."

"Mihoshi?"

"I come from a big family," she said. "It's noisy and crowded and never really quiet. But there is also lots of fun, and lots of love, and whatever happens they are always there for you. Count me in."

"Washu?"

"I was married, once, so long ago that the memories are hoary with age," she replied. "I had given up on the universe, and retreated into my own little cocoon. Until I met you. I'm not leaving either."

"I see. I know very little about love and nothing about marriage...I guess that's part of becoming an adult. Heck, I'm not even old enough to shave yet!" His joke fell flat, and he sighed. "I hope you all realize that I am still growing, still changing, and you may not like what I become."

"If we are here, we can have a hand in that growth," said Washu. "We will change, too. The risk goes both ways."

"I've sure learned that," he sighed, receiving some tentative smiles. And then he was silent, contemplating and delaying. He had to be honest with himself: there was no one on Earth who could match any of these off-world females in beauty, courage, or just sheer novelty. He had to admit that with these five around his life had taken on an excitement that he'd never really known. Deep in his soul he knew, he did not want to go back to that earlier life (even if he could). But, if he picked just one the others would be terribly hurt, and then they would leave, and he sure didn't want either to happen. Then again, he was just too young to be engaged; he would screw that up, too, he just knew it. He wavered back and forth a few more times, just like he had all morning — only now he could no longer stall them. Tenchi scratched the back of his head (a sure sign he was nervous). "I can't choose just one of you, and I don't want any of you to leave," he said, looking at their anxious faces. "Would you really consent to a group marriage?"

They nodded, one by one.

With a ponderous deliberateness, he turned to face Ryoko, bowed formally, and said, "Ryoko Hakubi, your passion and courage are a source of inspiration. I have grown to love you and cherish you, and ask if you would honor me by consenting to be my wife."

"YES!" she sang and lunged for him, but he stopped her with an obstructing hand, and slight shake of his head.

He turned to face Ayeka, bowing formally, and said, "Princess Ayeka Jurai, First Crown Princess of Jurai, and heir to the throne. Your loyalty and propriety are matched only by your beauty and grace. My love for you is unworthy, but I would be deeply honored if you would accept my proposal for marriage."

Ayeka wrestled to keep her face calm and composed, but was losing the battle. She bowed towards him, and replied, "The honor is mine, Lord Tenchi. I accept your proposal."

He moved to face Sasami, and bowed towards her. "Second Crown Princess Sasami Jurai, your sweet disposition lightens my heart. I can only offer you a lifetime of love and devotion if you would accept me as your husband."

Sasami tried to copy her elder sister, but she giggled during the bow in spite of her best efforts. "Yes, Tenchi, I would be happy to marry you." The little cabbit on her shoulder purred.

Tenchi faced Mihoshi and bowed. "Inspector Mihoshi Kuramitsu, your devotion to duty simply cannot compare to your love of life or your dazzling beauty. If my love can provide an anchor for your chosen career, I offer it wholeheartedly. Will you marry me?"

Mihoshi started sniffling. "Oh, that is so wonderful. Of course I will marry you. Oh, just wait until I tell my family!"

Tenchi turned to face Washu, and bowed deeply. "Washu Hakubi, your wisdom and intelligence are legendary, but your beauty and gentleness are just as inspiring. Can the love of a simple student be enough to win your heart and mind?"

Washu smiled, and nodded. "Very impressive, Tenchi. That's what I admire about you: simple, direct, and sincere. Yes, I will marry you."

Finally, Tenchi turned towards Yosho, who had witnessed the whole process in solemn silence. They exchanged bows, and then Tenchi said, "Grandpa, would you negotiate on my behalf with the families of my intended brides, so that honor and decorum are maintained?"

Yosho nodded. "Yes, I will. And, Tenchi...you made the correct choice."

Tenchi turned once more towards five shining faces, and exchanged bows with them. "Well, how did I do?" he asked. And then they were on him like a pack of dogs, laughing and giggling and tickling and pinching and kissing him and kicking the furniture and ignoring his pleas to stop.

############

The wrestling ended only with exhaustion, and they all lay panting and chuckling. Ryoko struggled to her knees and crawled over to kneel beside Tenchi's head, looking down into his eyes. "Tenchi," she said sweetly, "did you really say you love me?"

"Yes, I said it."

"And did you really mean it?"

"Yes, I meant it."

She giggled.

"He said he loved us all," Ayeka interrupted.

Ryoko ignored her. "I want to hear you say it again."

"I love you, Ryoko." Her answering smile was radiant.

"This looks so undignified," Ayeka continued, indicated her rumpled clothing, her disarrayed hair, and the overturned furniture.

"But, did you have fun?" Tenchi asked.

After a moment's reflection, she answered, "Yes."

"Maybe that's why you look so beautiful," he said. She reddened. He started to sit up when he gasped. "Ow! I think I hurt my leg." He collapsed slowly backwards, only to find his head settling onto Ryoko's lap. She looked very concerned.

Washu crawled forward, reaching for his leg. "Where does it hurt?"

"Just above the knee," he answered. He watched her probing the muscles gently, and finally asked her, "Washu, will I marry a child or a woman?"

She paused, considered him with a raised eyebrow, and then blurred as she morphed into an adult. She was taller, of course, but her movements were still graceful and precise. Though her face was rounder than Ryoko's, the resemblance was unmistakable. Her green eyes sparkled, and when she spoke, her voice was deeper and melodic. "Does this answer your question?"

Tenchi nodded.

"And which form do you prefer?"

"Which form do **you** prefer?" he countered.

She shrugged.

"Then how about this one after the wedding, and Little Washu before the wedding?"

She nodded, blurred, and was once more an adolescent.

"But I'm still a child," said Sasami, sadly. "I can't change that fast."

"Then I will wait for you to catch up, Little Goddess of the Kitchen."

"That is so sweet," said Mihoshi, reaching over to give Sasami a hug.

"As are you, Mihoshi," said Tenchi. Mihoshi giggled.

"You seem different, Tenchi," Washu said, eyeing him critically. "Something in you has changed."

He nodded. "I guess maybe I have. There is an old Earth saying that goes, 'You don't know what you've got until it's gone.' I came too close to a bitter lesson."

"I think we know how you feel. We've all fallen in love with the hero who freed us from our prisons." Washu answered his uncomprehending gaze by indicating the nodding heads around her. "Prisons come in many shapes and sizes, and are very common. True heroes are unique and special, and may only come once in a lifetime. Better to grab him when you find him, than let him slip away."

Yosho studied the group on the floor, hovering over Tenchi. He decided enough of the tension had dissipated to have a little fun. "A group ceremony might be impressive to watch, but the honeymoon could be sheer chaos. Perhaps you should consider individual ceremonies. Tell me, Tenchi, who will you marry first?" Having lit the fuse, it didn't take long for the bomb to go off.

"Uh, well, I hadn't thought that far ahead yet," he answered.

"I'm the only one here with any practical experience," Washu suggested. "And poor Tenchi is just as liable to be scared out of his wits. He has to be guided gently by — "

"Sorry, Mom, but I'm going first. I've known him the longest — I watched him grow up — so I'm first in line. Besides, I've had plenty of experience in these matters: after all, I was a pirate for 1300 years, and saw all kinds of 'action' (if you know what I mean)."

"Actually, you're a liar. I can read your mind, remember? When Kagato stole you from me, he kept his pretty new weapon on a very short leash. Sadistic monster that he was, he was highly amused by retarding your growth — and he had no intention of ever letting you have even a morsel of human comfort, because it might have softened you somehow. And while 700 years in a tomb didn't do much for your social life, it did give you a chance to cool off."

"Then I guess we'll just get our experience the old fashioned way, won't we, Tenchi?" She leaned forward and embraced him, effectively putting him in a headlock. He gurgled reflexively.

"Such nonsense," Ayeka interrupted. "He is a member of the Juraian Royal Family. It should be a proper wedding, with elaborate ceremonies and traditional rituals. And since I am the First Crown Princess, it is only fitting that I go first." Ryoko growled at Ayeka, who responded by taking Tenchi's arm. "Don't you agree, Lord Tenchi?" Tenchi mumbled a reply.

"Oh, but I must insist that we go by seniority," Washu said as she grabbed Tenchi's free hand. Tenchi's response was smothered as Ryoko shifted her grip.

"We could go alphabetically," Sasami suggested. "But it doesn't matter to me, 'cause I'm the youngest and will have to wait anyway. I'm sure you'll pick what's best, won't you Tenchi?" Tenchi tried to nod, but his movements were becoming increasingly restricted.

"Oh, just draw names from a hat," Mihoshi said with a dismissive wave. "I wonder if we should all wear the same bride's dresses? I think we all look good in white, that's such a nice traditional color. With lots of flowers. Come to think of it, though, we all come from such different backgrounds, maybe we should each go with a unique look. What do you think, Tenchi?" Tenchi was unable to answer, as he was being pulled in three different directions, his good leg tapping the floor as he tried to support his game leg.

Yosho took pity on the boy. "Ryoko, I believe you're choking your fiancée. You might give him a little air."

"What? Oh! Sorry, Tenchi, Dear."

Tenchi gasped, his color returning to normal. "Can't we discuss the details later?"

"By the way, what's a harem?" asked Mihoshi.

############

"The idea is preposterous, and entirely unacceptable," Baron Kitsune said.

"Actually, it makes perfect sense," Washu replied. "How do you want me to explain this to you, scientifically or metaphysically?"

"Why not both?" Baron Kitsune replied.

"Pick one."

"Very well, let's start with the scientific explanation."

Tenchi was sitting on the sofa again, flanked this time by Ryoko and Ayeka. Sasami knelt in front of Ayeka, Mihoshi knelt in front of Ryoko, and Washu sat tailor-fashion down front. She considered this the 'flying wedge' formation, useful for its tactical advantages in the coming discussion, and about the only compromise reached by all the females that wanted to sit on Tenchi's lap. "Tell me, Baron, are you a member of the Royal Family?"

"Yes, I'm a second cousin of the Emperor."

"Then I'm guessing you're a Power sensitive."

"I have some modest abilities, but nothing on the scale of my cousin and his family."

"Few people do. I would ask you to reach out with your senses and describe what you perceive."

He closed his eyes, sending his mental fingers probing outwards to feel the ebb and flow of Power. It didn't take long at all to encounter the nexus before him, a central turbulence with five satellite eddies of differing intensities. "By the gods, he's Summoning...and you five ladies are resonating with him!"

"You got that right," said Ryoko, snuggling closer to Tenchi.

"Yes, we're all linked to him," said Washu, "and over time we will resonate with each other as well. I don't know if you've read the reports Mihoshi wrote, but I included projections of Tenchi's Power attributes. His potentials are off the scale — by the time he matures fully he will be stronger than the rest of us combined. If he really wanted the Throne of Jurai he could take it by force, and no one could stop him."

"That sounds like a threat."

"I'm no threat to anyone," Tenchi interjected. "Ayeka is the heir to the throne, not me, and I will support her against any and all threats."

"We all will," Ryoko echoed. Everyone turned and looked at her, shocked surprise on their faces. "Nobody messes with me or my family," she explained.

"Anyway, if my beloved truly wanted the throne, I would abdicate in a heartbeat." Ayeka said.

"And I feel the same way," Sasami added.

"Now," Washu continued, "while I won't discuss Tenchi's sex appeal — "

"I will," Ryoko cooed sweetly. Tenchi blushed and rolled his eyes.

" — there's a more basic mechanism at work. Those individuals who can tap into the Power are all sensitive to other users. The more Power you can access, the more sensitive you are. Where male sensitives are more cautious about a newcomer, until they can gauge him as an ally or a rival, the females are going to view him almost universally as a potential mate. Tenchi's awesome capacities, even latent as they are, are already starting to draw female sensitives to him like moths to a flame. And it is only going to get worse as he matures...his Power aura will grow exponentially. He will need to marry all five of us if for no other reason than to fend off further suitors!"

"Oh, great," Tenchi groaned. His entourage exchanged shocked glances among themselves. Washu couldn't decide which was funnier: Tenchi's discomfort, the ladies' sudden epiphany, or the Baron's sour expression. She was enjoying this.

"I see," said the Baron.

"I hope so. There's another aspect here worth considering: Tenchi is only one-eighth Juraian, yet the mixture of royal DNA with local genetic stock has amplified his Power attributes enormously. It seems to me that Emperor Azusa's efforts to enrich Juraian bloodlines with fresh characteristics were right on the money. I wonder how the aristocrats are going to react, knowing that their future rulers are unlikely to be of pure Juraian blood?"

The Baron shifted uncomfortably. "What about the metaphysical explanation?"

"Doesn't it strike you as too coincidental that five female Power sensitives should just happen to converge on the same spot, at the same time, and bond with the same man? I haven't bothered to calculate the odds, but they've gotta be stupendous. Call it fate or karma, but so much talent in one place at one time was bound to kill us all or combine us all. I rather favor that last option, myself."

"Are you sure all five of you are sensitives?"

"Yes. Ayeka and Sasami descend from the Jurai dynasty, and are obvious. My background is not really relevant, but I can assure you I am sensitive, as is my daughter. Even Mihoshi is a sensitive, but with a unique twist: she is the luckiest person I have ever met. Good luck or bad luck, she has more of it than any ten people combined."

The Baron _harrumphed_, still refusing the explanation. "Your social dynamics should be very interesting. After all, Lord Tenchi is marrying a mother and daughter, as well as a pair of sisters. It seems to me like a case study in social pathology."

"Just one of those challenges derived from long life spans."

"But does he have a long life span? You yourself said that he's only one-eighth Juraian. He may be like a brightly burning flame, extinguished after only a few decades (I believe that is the local lifespan). How long did his mother live?"

"She died only a few years after his birth, but there were mitigating circumstances involved." Washu shrugged. "If he only lives a few decades, then those are the dictates of fate. We'll love him and support him for as long as we can, and protect him from those who would 'snuff out his flame' prematurely." She turned to look at Ryoko and Ayeka, who were both growling at the Baron. "And then we'll muddle about in the affairs of our children — after all, some of us already have experience in that area."

"Washu...!"

Washu smiled sweetly at Ryoko. "But my personal opinion is that the genes that bestowed his sensitivity will also bless him with longevity. He'll probably be around long after you are, Baron."

"So, what are your plans now?"

"Our plans? I believe we are getting married, and then we'll do our best to breed like rabbits. Right, ladies?"

"Damn straight!" Ryoko answered. "And I can't wait to get started."

Tenchi studied the ceiling.

"Ryoko, can we please observe a little more decorum here?" Ayeka asked tiredly. "But I must say that you are correct. The royal line of succession must be preserved, and there are certain duties to be performed..." She cuddled up to Tenchi as well.

"The final words are yours, Prince Tenchi. What do you wish to say to your great grandfather, Emperor Azusa?"

"I have learned that Earth is not alone in the galaxy — it is Colony World #0315, whose written history only goes back six thousand years, and anything earlier is just a myth or a legend. And I've known for months that my life will never again be ordinary. Worrying about college and a career for a life on Earth seems rather pointless. I have only seen one small corner of one island of this planet...I guess now I may never to get to see the rest of it. That would be depressing if there weren't so much else to see out among the stars. But Earth is still my home. As long as I will be permitted to return here occasionally, to see my family, to visit the graves of my mother and grandmother, then I will abide by His Majesty's wishes. I will travel to Jurai just as soon as I finish high school, and I will attend the academy of his choosing.

"But I will **not** change my mind about marriage. I have asked all five of these ladies to be my bride, and they have all accepted. We make a good team. We will make a great family. We belong together."

"Then my task here is complete," the Baron replied, and departed with his robot.

**ACT 3 - EVENING**

"Here you are!" Ryoko declared, drifting down from the sky. Tenchi was sitting on the stones outside of Ryoko's cave.

"Oh. Hi, Ryoko."

"Tenchi, everyone's out looking for you. You've been gone for hours!" She settled onto the stones beside him. She looked worried, though she sounded relieved. "Is anything wrong?"

"No, nothing is wrong. It's just that, whenever I've faced a big decision, or some big change in my life, I've always come here to think about it."

"I know. I remember some of those times. Would you rather be alone?"

"No. Actually, I'd rather you stayed."

She snuggled up against him. "It's a beautiful night."

"Yes, it is. It's so quiet up here."

"It's too quiet. This place gives me the creeps."

"Oh, I don't know. I've always found this place comforting." He took her hands in his.

"You weren't locked away here for 700 years."

"No, but I found you here, didn't I? I think I've always known you were here, waiting for me."

"It's a prison, Tenchi."

"No, it's a cocoon. It's where you changed from an evil demon into a beautiful angel." And then he kissed her. It was clumsy, and hesitant, as all first kisses are. She would remember it for the rest of her life. "I'm sorry I don't have an engagement ring for you to wear."

"Don't be sorry. You told me today what I wanted to hear more than anything else." She grinned at him. "And I sure would like to hear it again..."

Tenchi smiled. "I love you, Ryoko."

She giggled and put her head on his shoulder.

"And you said something I wanted to hear."

"What was that?"

"You called us your family."

"I guess change is in the air," she said. And then he was kissing her again; still shy, still nervous, but with a bit more confidence.

"Gee, that could get habit-forming," She said afterward.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No. Never." She reached for him, her passion rising, but her instinct told her to go slowly — she didn't want to scare him away now, just when he was finally opening up. "I've been dreaming of this night for ages," she said finally. "Why did you wait so long?"

"It felt right." He shrugged. "If you hadn't been so aggressive chasing me all this time, it might have happened earlier."

_That clinches it_ she thought, _one step at a time_. She forced her breathing to slow down, but her heart was singing nonetheless.

"We should probably be going back," he said. "The others will be worrying about us."

"I don't care. I don't want to go back. I don't want to share you with anybody."

"You should be glad you are."

"Tenchi! How can you say that?"

"Because you're a hunter, and a fierce competitor. You're happiest when you're winning. After a few months alone with me, you would soon get bored. And then we would both be unhappy."

Ryoko studied her feet.

Tenchi shrugged. "We have a saying here on Earth: 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder.' Maybe you should think less about our times apart, and make plans for our times together." He kissed her again, brushing strands of hair from her face. "Come on." He stood and helped her to her feet.

"You want to walk? Why don't I just fly us? It's faster."

"I'm in no hurry."

"Neither am I," she decided. She was already walking on air.

**============================== Author's Notes ==============================**

As is usual, I came late to the party. I watched the 13 "Tenchi Muyo" OAV episodes with my youngest daughter (a teenager) and got hooked, and then discovered it is ten years old and out of fashion in Japan these days (Spring 2001). It appears to be going through a twilight period of sorts here in the States, but having watched a couple of the movies and some of the television episodes, I have to say a good story has been terribly diluted by all the mutations to other mediums. How sad.

So, call me a purist. I'll stick with the OAVs, and mourn what might have been.

This story was conceived as the kind of conclusion I would have liked to see. Knowing the Asian penchant for tragic endings, though, it would probably have never happened this way.

I've done some writing in the past, but I've never tried my hand at playing with other people's characters before. A bit of a challenge, but I don't think I did any serious damage.

The characters of Tenchi Muyo (with the exception of Baron Kitsune) were created by Masaki Kajashima, and brought to North America by Pioneer LDC. This story, while incorporating names and situations held under copyright by others, is copyright 2001 by Jeffery L. Harris.

This story comes entirely from my imagination, and is not, nor intended to be, canon. Please do not send the legions of lawyers after me...it's not worth their time, or mine.

Any questions or comments should be directed to:

Jeffery L Harris

Subject: "We Belong"


	4. EPISODE 3  And If I Fall

_It seems so far to go  
It took so long to get here  
Now I'm saying things I swore I'd never say  
And I'm afraid again_

_I thought I had it in me  
I used to be so sure  
There I was stronger than ever  
Here I am blaming the hurt_

_And if I fall  
I will find a way back to my hands  
I'm the only one who can help me find my feet  
Again  
Sweet little fighter  
Sweet little scar  
Sweet little fire in my heart_

_It seems so easy now  
Everything I dreamed about when I was a child  
It looks like a good place here  
So I think I'll stay for awhile_

_And if I fall  
I will find a way back to my hands  
I'm the only one who can help me find my feet  
Again_

_You came here screaming  
And never stopped to listen to your one and only prayer  
A place for you somewhere  
Sweet little fighter  
Sweet little scar  
Sweet little fire in my heart_

Title: "If I Fall"  
Artist: Tara Maclean

**ACT 1 - SATURDAY **

The school year in Japan ends in March, and the graduation ceremony is held on a Saturday night near the end of the month. On this particular night, the winds were brisk and it was snowing lightly. Tenchi was is in his room, donning his school uniform for the last time. The last few months had seen him going through a final growth spurt: he was taller now, his shoulders had broadened a bit, and his voice had deepened a little. The most noticeable change had been to his face, which was now leaner and more planar. His uniform now fit snugly, and he had to struggle to with it.

Nobuyuki's voice echoed up the stairs. "Tenchi! I'm going out to warm up the van. Hurry up!"

"Ok, Dad," Tenchi answered, "I'll be down in a minute." He finished brushing his hair and picked up the stack of wrapped gifts from his desk. One last inspection in the mirror, and then he exited his room. He was feeling a bit nostalgic, knowing that a chapter in his life was now closing. That thought was still in his mind as started down the stairs — and then he saw the six females in his life waiting for him at the bottom. He stopped momentarily as he examined them. The five humans were gorgeous: though they were wearing conservatively styled dresses, each had modified her outfit to enhance her natural attributes. And little Ryo-ohki had been thoroughly shampooed and combed, and wore a festive child's dress. As he slowly descended the stairs, they bowed in unison, the four oldest nearly salivating as they waited for him.

"Good evening, Tenchi," they all said.

Tenchi stopped again and stared, speechless.

"What's wrong, Tenchi?" Ryoko asked. "Don't you approve?" She indicated their clothing.

"You're all very...beautiful. You take my breath away."

"Oh, he noticed!" Mihoshi said.

"How could I not?"

"What are you carrying, Tenchi?" Washu asked.

"Oh, uh, I have gifts for each of you."

"Shouldn't **we** be giving **you** a gift?" Ayeka inquired. "You are the one graduating tonight."

"It's my way of saying thank you for all the time and patience you've shown to me."

Washu spoke for all of them: "It's the least we could do for our future husband."

Tenchi felt a pang of guilt. Not over having proposed to all of his off-world house guests, but that he simply did not have the money to purchase the proper symbols. He had explained this to his alien entourage several times, but their answers were always the same: "Rings aren't important, intentions are important." Still, his greatest wish was that he could have placed a proper ring on the hand of each of them. He finished descending the staircase and distributed his packages. While Ryoko, Ayeka, Washu, Mihoshi, and Sasami opened their gifts — in varying degrees of precision — he knelt and handed the last gift to Ryo-ohki, who had resolutely maintained her humanoid form. Her hands were clumsy, and Sasami giggled while watching her attempt to open the package.

"You'd better help her, Tenchi, I don't think she's up to it yet," Sasami advised.

Tenchi gently removed the gift from Ryo-ohki's fingers, and opened the wrapping paper. He was listening to the appreciative sounds around him, and smiled at their reactions. He extracted a small box from Ryo-ohki's wrapping, opened it, and showed her the necklace inside. It was of the choker type, made of elastic material and festooned with little baubles shaped liked stars and carrots. Ryo-ohki "Miya!"-ed enthusiastically, and pulled her hair back to allow Tenchi to fasten the clasp at the back of her neck. She rewarded him with a big hug. As he stood, he noticed that each of the ladies was fastening a brooch to her dress. Each was an elaborate flower, decorated in the colors of the owner's eyes and hair: gold and cyan for Ryoko, red and violet for Ayeka, green and red for Washu, blue and yellow for Mihoshi, and pink and blue for Sasami. He received enthusiastic embraces from all five of them.

That's when Tenchi's father opened the front door and leaned in. "Father is already waiting in the van. Let's get going or all the good parking spots will be taken!"

############

The graduation ceremony was one of those events Tenchi was frankly willing to forget. It was held in the school gymnasium, with rows of folding chairs down the middle to hold the graduates, while the parents and family were seated in the bleachers. The room had a stage, which was where the faculty, podium, a couple of flags, and a table full of envelopes were placed. All the graduates were dressed in their school uniform, which to Tenchi's way of thinking made them look like so many dominoes stacked together. He daydreamed his way though the proceedings, looking for friends and familiar faces — it wasn't hard to spot his entourage: in a sea of black and gray hair, their rainbow-hued tresses were impossible to miss. He waved discreetly at them once, and was rewarded with his father's camera lens pointing at him like a sniper scope. It might have been embarrassing if half a hundred other father's weren't performing the same ritual. Talk about boring.

He managed to stay awake, though, and was grateful when each row of students was instructed to stand and join the queue for the stage. It moved briskly, as each student was allowed just so much time after his/her name was called to walk across the stage, exchange bows with the Principal, accept their diploma from the teacher at the table, and hustle down the opposite stairway. His only really embarrassing moment came when he accepted his diploma and the applause from his personal cheering section drew all sorts of attention. Fortunately, he only blushed, rather than the dreaded nosebleed.

They were reunited at the reception in the cafeteria after the ceremony. Refreshment tables lined one wall, and the room was packed with knots of students and their families. Nobuyuki took plenty of photos of Tenchi with and without his ladies. And then Nobuyuki and Yosho wandered away to exchange pleasantries with old acquaintances, and Sasami dragged Washu and Ryo-ohki off towards the refreshment tables.

Tenchi soon found himself in the center of a small crowd. His classmates stood about in mute astonishment, wondering how Tenchi had managed to keep silent all this time about these exotic foreigners. They openly stared at Ryoko, Ayeka, and Mihoshi: the boys focused on Ryoko's cleavage and fang-like teeth, Mihoshi's long legs and shapely derriere, and Ayeka's regal posture and classy carriage; the girls concentrated on their hair and eyes, and Tenchi heard whispered comments about iridescent dyes and colored contact lenses. Finally, Tenchi's friend Amagasaki screwed up the courage to ask him who they were. "They're my family," he answered, pride tinged with embarrassment. Then a ray of inspiration hit him: "They're here from California."

Mihoshi whispered a question to Ayeka: "Where's California?"

Ayeka, ever in the know, replied, "On the closest edge of the continent due east of us. The lifestyle there is similar to the colony on Jotaken."

"Oh," said Mihoshi and Ryoko, familiar with the reference. They smiled broadly for their clever Tenchi.

############

Washu, Sasami, and Ryo-ohki worked their way discreetly down the tables, sampling the various entrees. Sasami's discerning palette identified ingredients and judged proportions, and Washu made comments about the colors. Neither, frankly, was impressed.

"Remind me to fix Tenchi's favorite dinner tomorrow," Sasami told Washu. Washu agreed.

Ryo-ohki remained alongside Washu, munching on a carrot and looking into the faces of those who stared at her. One young child tugged on his mothers dress and pointed at the cabbit, asking in a loud voice if Ryo-ohki was a baby werewolf. He was silenced for his efforts. Ryo-ohki blinked back innocently at him, and Washu had to bite the insides of her cheeks to keep from laughing out loud.

############

"Masaki, you are such a wimp," said one heavily muscled young man. Tenchi bridled, but pointedly ignored him. So he turned to Ryoko, and asked, "Are you a cousin of his?"

Ryoko batted her long eyelashes at the posturing young man. "Actually, we're engaged," she purred, her arms entwining around one of Tenchi's. Ayeka cleared her throat and shook her head, but Ryoko ignored her.

Tenchi studied the boy through half-closed eyelids. Ryoko, Ayeka, and Mihoshi felt his Power level flicker. From opposite corners of the room, Yosho, Washu, and Sasami felt it, too, and looked their way curiously.

"What can you possibly see in him?" muscle-boy asked.

"I'm attracted to his big...heart," Ryoko replied coyly.

"Marriage before college?" one bespectacled girl asked, clearly disapproving.

"Maybe he's skipping college," said the young man, looking at Ryoko enviously.

"Oh, I'm going on to college," Tenchi replied. "Just not in Japan."

"Are you attending one of those Southern California colleges? You are **so** lucky," the girl with the glasses looked jealous, too.

Tenchi could have told her the truth, that his great-grandfather had insisted that he attend an academy on Jurai (several hundred light years away), but decided against it. In fact, he looked at the gorgeous alien attached to his arm and announced, "You look thirsty, Ryoko. Let's find some punch. Come on Ayeka, Mihoshi."

############

The ride home was full of chatter, as the galactics compared notes on clothing, munchies, people, and the evening as a whole. The only universal agreement was that Tenchi looked handsome in his school uniform.

"I can't wait to take it off," he replied.

"I'd be happy to help you with that little chore," Ryoko said sweetly, snuggling against him.

On his other side, Ayeka just sighed. "You are so predictable, Ryoko."

"You're just mad because I suggested it first, " she said to Ayeka. To Tenchi, she whispered, "This time, let me unfasten the buttons."

"What do you mean, 'this time?'" Ayeka snapped.

"I really don't think it's any of your business, Little Princess."

"If it involves my fiancée, it becomes my business!"

"He's my fiancée, too, and it really doesn't concern you!"

Tenchi rolled his eyes and sighed. He wasn't really exasperated, or maybe not as much as he used to be. If it weren't for the high volume, he could tune them out. Washu and Sasami turned around and leaned over the seat back in front of him.

"Tenchi, did you sample those chocolate stars on the end of the first table?"

"Yes I did, Sasami. Actually, I thought they were pretty good."

"You **liked** those? E-w-w-w-w, I thought they had too much sugar in them."

He was going to say something else, but didn't feel like shouting over the noise. He raised one hand to signal a pause, then brought both hands over his head, around the shoulders of his seatmates, and back to his chest. Ryoko and Ayeka made a strangled sound as Tenchi squeezed them into his armpits. "Now, I'll make a deal with each of you ladies. If each of you can stay completely silent until we get home, I'll give you a big kiss." There was the unmistakable sound of hands being clamped over lips, and the back of the van grew suddenly silent. "That's much better. Now, what were you saying, Sasami?"

Sasami giggled, and then returned to her evaluation of the chocolate stars. Beside her, Washu looked down at Tenchi's seatmates, and just happened to see them exchanging conspiratorial winks and sly grins. Then they noticed her watching them and stuck out their tongues at her. Washu was just considering the best way to exploit this information when Mihoshi gasped and said, "There's a ship anchored in the lake!"

"Can't be," Nobuyuki said from the driver's seat. "The lake is frozen over."

"Not any more it isn't," Mihoshi replied. She was straining to see out her window, and both Sasami and Washu leaned over to look where she pointed. It wasn't late enough to be truly dark out, but the blowing snow made visibility difficult. They could barely discern the outlines of a curved shape rising beside the dock, though it was nearly hidden by the steam wraiths that slithered off the choppy water.

"She's right," Washu said. "Looks like the lake was heat-flashed. The ship's engines must be keeping the water from re-freezing."

"Isn't your GP cruiser submerged in the lake, Mihoshi?" Sasami asked.

"No, I parked Yukinojo in the meadow behind the shrine. Washu put a cloak over it to conceal it."

"Pesky spy satellites," Washu muttered.

"I think it's an Imperial shuttle," said Mihoshi. "But it looks like a short-range model. That would mean a long-range transport up in orbit."

"And it would appear they've already made themselves at home," Yosho said from the front seat. "The living room lights are on. I guess we'll be meeting our guests in short order."

"Damn," Tenchi grumbled, accompanied by another Power spike. Every eye in the van turned to look at him. Tenchi rarely cursed. "Looks like they wasted no time coming for me."

############

Nobuyuki parked the van near the front door, and everyone piled out quickly. Their coats were soon flecked with snowflakes, and their heads were wreathed in mist.

"There is only one set of tracks," Ryoko said. She had phased through the side of the van and flown down to the ship. She had also considered just phasing through the vessel's side and taking a peek at the interior, but decided it would accomplish nothing. And she wanted to be with Tenchi. He was obviously upset, which made her upset. And she didn't like being upset.

"Well, let's go greet our guests," Yosho answered. He started for the door — but it opened before he could reach it, and a figure in flowing robes stood framed and back-lit.

"Mother!" Yosho gasped.

############

"I've only been here a short while," Funaho explained. "And it took me that long to figure out how to turn on the lights."

"Sorry about that," Nobuyuki said, not knowing what else to say. He couldn't help it if his house lacked the Juraian standard semi-sentient appliances. This was Earth, after all, a backwater little frontier world.

Funaho just waved it aside. "No need." She was sitting on the sofa, with Sasami and Ayeka flanking her. Yosho and Nobuyuki sat across from them, and the remaining residents either sat on the floor or leaned against the wall. Coats had been hung, shoes had been removed, and water was slowly coming to a boil on the stove in preparation for hot tea. "I'm just sorry I missed Tenchi's graduation."

"You didn't miss much, Lady Funaho," Tenchi replied. He sat in a corner with Ryoko clinging to him. He was unusually quiet, and appeared to be brooding.

"But I got plenty of pictures!" Nobuyuki exclaimed. "And I'll be happy to give you copies when they're developed."

"Thank you, Mr. Masaki, that is very kind. Oh, where are you going, Sasami?" Sasami had bounced off of the sofa and was walking briskly towards the kitchen.

"I've gotta go check on the water. I'll be right back. Tenchi, would you help me, please?"

"Sure," he replied, too polite to refuse. He struggled to his feet and strode off after Sasami. Ryoko watched him go, torn between the need to be sociable and her desire for her fiancée. She sighed and leaned back against the wall.

"Sasami, do you really need my help to look at the pot?"

"No, but if it's boiling I could use your help getting it ready."

"Oh."

"And I wanted to ask why you're so upset."

"Isn't it obvious? I probably ought to go pack."

"Don't you want to go to Jurai?"

"Not yet. I thought we'd take care of all of these weddings first. And I just wanted a taste of freedom before I tackled my new responsibilities."

"Oh, you want a vacation. Here, help me lift this." She handed him a pair of towels and gestured towards the pot.

"Yeah," he said, tipping the pot so that's its contents would run into a serving pitcher. "That, and I'm just tired of being ordered around so much."

"Are you so sure she's here to fetch you back?"

"Watch your hands. No, I'm not positive, but the timing sure is coincidental."

"Maybe you should just give her a chance to explain herself. How many cups are up there?"

"Six. Let me grab a couple more. And a carrot for Ryo-ohki."

Sasami had to smile. Even though Tenchi was anxious, he was still considerate of his friends. They placed the tea set on a tray, added the tea, spoons, napkins, and the cabbit's treat. Tenchi lifted the tray carefully. "Tenchi? Please promise me that you'll be patient with her?"

"Ok," he sighed. "I promise."

############

Tenchi carried the tray into the living room and set it on the coffee table. Ryoko noticed that the tension seemed to have gone out of his posture; he wasn't smiling, but he'd lost that caged animal look. She caught Sasami's eye and flashed her a thumbs-up. Sasami smiled and nodded. Tenchi settled back onto the floor with Ryoko, and allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder. Neither said anything, just watched Ayeka serving tea.

The topic of conversation finally came around to her reason for being on Earth. "I've come to take Tenchi and you girls back to Jurai," Funaho said. She expected some reaction, but got total silence. "Is there a problem?"

"Yes there is, Mother," Yosho replied. "We have four weddings to plan and perform."

"Four weddings? I thought you were holding just one large wedding. Either way, I assumed they were to be held on Jurai."

"No, we haven't really decided. At the moment, we have tentatively settled on Ryoko's and Washu's ceremonies here, Mihoshi's on her home world, and Ayeka's on Jurai."

"Why would you want to hold any of the ceremonies here?" asked Funaho.

"Because we have no other friends or family," said Washu, "and we met him right here. We wanted Yosho to perform the ceremonies."

"At the same time?"

"Certainly not. Ryoko's will be first, and then mine a month later."

"A month?" exclaimed Funaho. "Why so long?"

"You gotta allow for the honeymoon!" Washu cackled, her eyebrows wiggling with lecherous exaggeration.

"And mine will be a month after Washu's," Mihoshi added. "It will take my mother and I at least that long to plan for it. Not to mention travel time."

"Ayeka?"

"Mine is last out of simple logistics. And I thought you and Mother might need the extra time to plan for a royal wedding. As I recall, they can be rather ostentatious."

"Don't forget my betrothal banquet," Sasami added.

"You're right, of course, on both accounts. Do you ladies have actual dates set?"

Yosho cleared his throat. "No, nothing was going to be settled upon until after Tenchi had graduated. And a chance to discuss details with family members, of course."

"Maybe we ought to just elope," Tenchi said from the floor. It was not a joke; it was not meant as one, and it was not received as one.

Funaho said (as tactfully as possible), "That's not a very helpful suggestion, Tenchi."

"Oh? And what's so important happening on Jurai that won't wait? I would like to remind you that I agreed to go there, but I didn't agree to a timetable. Each of these wonderful ladies deserves her own special day, in the place of her choosing. And I..." Tenchi had half-risen from the floor when he uttered a strangled sound and released a tremendous Power surge. He convulsed once and collapsed. Ryoko caught him before he hit the floor. There were startled gasps from around the room.

Washu scrambled over to examine him, growling at least once for everyone to get out of her light. "Take him up to his room, Ryoko, I'll get some things from my lab and be right up."

Ryoko nodded once, cradled Tenchi in her arms, and teleported up to his room. She gently laid him on his bed and pulled the covers over him. She sat beside him, leaning over his chest to study his face. "Not now," she whispered softly. "This can't happen now. I waited **centuries** for you. You're the only man I've ever loved, and the only man who ever loved me."

"I thought that's why we were getting married," he whispered back. His eyes opened and looked into hers. He was disoriented, and his voice was strained.

"If anything ever happened to you — "

" — then you'd raise our children to be proper little pirates."

"We don't have any children," she chided him, a lump in her throat.

"Yet," he corrected her, attempting a smile.

There were voices in the hallway outside his room. Washu opened the door, allowing Ryo-ohki (in her quadruped form) to slip in and hop onto the bed. She climbed onto Tenchi's chest, "Miya"-ed with concern, and curled into a ball.

"Hey," Ryoko snarled good-naturedly, "take a hike. That's my spot."

Ryo-ohki ignored her.

Washu sat between Tenchi and Ryoko, waived a portable sensor over him, checked his pulse, and took his temperature.

"What's the diagnosis?" he asked.

Washu shrugged. "Beats me. I don't see anything wrong. Tell you what, Tenchi: I'll put together a little gizmo in my lab tonight, and I want you to wear it for the next few days. It will monitor your vital signs and send them down to my lab. Maybe that way we can get a handle on this thing."

Tenchi nodded and absently scratched Ryo-ohki behind her ears. That's when he noticed that she was still wearing the necklace. He also noticed Ryoko and Washu were still wearing their brooches. "It's getting worse, isn't it?"

"I won't lie to you, Tenchi. Yes, it's getting worse. But I don't think it's serious yet. The best thing you can do now is to get some sleep." Rising, she pulled Ryoko to her feet and pushed her towards the door, where several faces were peering in. "Doctor's orders: the cabbit stays, the rest of you leave." Washu watched them as they all filed out, giving Tenchi their encouragement. Just before leaving she bent down to kiss him on the forehead. "Don't make me a widow before we're even married, ok? Or, at least, not until you sign the insurance papers."

"I'll see what I can do," he answered around a yawn.

Washu extinguished the light and closed the door. She quietly descended the stairs, only to find every eye in the room looking at her expectantly.

After a moment of silence, Funaho cleared her throat. "Would you please explain what is going on?"

Washu settled on the floor next to the coffee table and poured herself a cup of tea. "Two months ago we started observing a change in our boy. He entered into a late growth spurt that added five inches to his height and nearly twenty pounds to his weight. No real surprise when his appetite suddenly increased. But in the last couple of weeks he's started showing some mood swings that are totally uncharacteristic, and in the last few days he's begun releasing these Power spikes — which appear to be growing in intensity. We notice them the most when he's irritable or stressed. We just figured it was nervous reaction to his high school graduation and planning for the weddings, but I'm beginning to think otherwise."

"How serious is it?"

"It's too early to tell," Washu replied. She looked at the assembled faces. "The best thing you can do for him is just don't make a big deal of it. He'll be embarrassed about it in the morning, and a little teasing is to be expected. Just don't make a fuss over him."

**ACT 2 - SUNDAY**

Tenchi took his time getting dressed. When he discovered that he had slept in his school uniform, it triggered memories of the evening as a whole and its spectacular conclusion. He almost dreaded going downstairs, but his stomach growled insistently at him. Even more immediate was his need to use the toilet.

He was just leaving the bathroom when he encountered Ryoko. She was standing by his doorway, her hands on her hips and legs braced, effectively blocking his exit. "It's time to pay up!" she said sweetly.

"What are you talking about, Ryoko?"

"We made a deal last night, remember? In the van, driving back from your graduation ceremony? I remained completely silent until we got home, and now I want that kiss. A big kiss, I believe you promised. So come over here and pucker-up!"

Tenchi couldn't help grinning. He opened his arms and she slid right into them, planting her lips squarely on his. It was long and enthusiastic, and at its completion he gently pried her arms off and stepped away from her. She had a dreamy smile on her face. "Was that satisfactory?"

"Um, hmm," she nodded.

"And now I believe it's my turn," said Ayeka, standing behind him, arms crossed and head tilted to the side. "You made the same bargain with me, and now it's time to collect."

Tenchi chuckled and reached for her. She stepped into his arms, raised her face, and pressed their mouths together. It was tender and protracted, and at its termination he gently disengaged from her. She, too, had a dreamy smile on her face. "Will that suffice?"

"Very much so," she whispered.

"Now, can I go eat breakfast? I seem to have worked up an appetite."

"Yes," Ryoko and Ayeka chorused, and watched him descend the stairs. They waited until he was in the kitchen — out of earshot — before they looked at each other and doubled-over with laughter.

"That was terrific!" Ryoko said.

"It did seem to work quite well," Ayeka replied.

"I wonder how many more times we'll get away with it before he figures it out?"

"Probably not many. You saw the look on Washu's face last night?"

"Yeah, she was trying to decide whether to tattle or cut into our action."

"Well, we shouldn't press our luck — "

" — But we should strike while the iron is hot! That's gotta be one of my best ideas yet."

"Yes, it would be, if it had been your idea, but since it was **my** stratagem — "

"It was not!"

"It was, too!" They both growled at one another before backing down. Ayeka took a moment to straighten her kimono before offering some sage advice. "You know, you might let him up for air sooner."

"Oh, look who's talking, miss diving-for-tonsils. I could've sworn I heard a vacuum-seal pop when he finally pried you off," Ryoko smirked. "You're just mad that you had to settle for sloppy seconds."

"Not really," Ayeka smiled maliciously. "I am quite certain that he enjoyed the main event much more than any tedious preliminaries."

The air between them crackled with energy, but Sasami's voice defused the impeding violence with a call to breakfast. Ayeka's haughty "Humph!" and nose-high march down the stairs were matched by Ryoko's sneer just before she teleported directly to the kitchen.

############

Tenchi was in a pretty good mood as he sat down to breakfast. Sasami carried a brimming pan in from the kitchen and gave him a big smile, Mihoshi set a tray down on the table in front of him and gave him a giggly kiss, and Washu clamped her arms around him from behind and planted a kiss on his cheek — all the while fastening a necklace full of odd-shaped instruments around his neck. "Don't take these sensors off until I tell you to," she whispered in his ear. A moment later Ryoko materialized over her spot and sat down, followed shortly by Ayeka; they ignored each other, but pointedly leaned over and kissed his cheeks.

Funaho watched the whole parade with a bemused smile, exchanging meaningful glances with Yosho on her left and Nobuyuki on her right.

"So many pretty ladies, his mother would be very proud," Nobuyuki leaned over and whispered.

"It didn't use to be this peaceful," Yosho added. "Too much competition. Many meals ended in fireworks."

"I can see why that would occur," she replied, one eyebrow raised.

Breakfast proceeded with little fuss, particularly when it was apparent that Tenchi had not lost his appetite. In fact, he wolfed down his food, to much general amusement. It was at the point where they were making noises about the day's activities that Funaho interrupted.

"Perhaps this is as good a time as any to call a family council. You should all be made aware of recent events. Can we adjourn to the living room? I believe we can talk comfortably there."

No one objected, and so a general transition from room-to-room began. Not surprisingly, there was small flurry around Tenchi as he found a comfortable spot on the floor, and Funaho found herself sitting next to Sasami and Washu on the sofa this time. She heard Yosho mutter something about 'musical chairs' under his breath, and Nobuyuki just shook his head.

"Thank you for indulging me," Funaho said. "But first: it is time for you remove your disguise, Yosho."

"Is that really necessary, Mother?" Yosho asked, his voice flat and betraying no emotion. "No one here will understand why I wore it for so long."

"Then it is time to make them understand." Her son squirmed, and her voice hardened ever so slightly. "That was a command, Yosho."

"Then the prince must obey," he replied reluctantly. There was a blur, and his hands and face no longer appeared as the old shrine master. He was once more the young, vigorous-appearing warrior of old.

Ayeka: "Yosho! Why didn't you reveal this to me?"

Ryoko: "Oh, no..."

"Go ahead, Yosho, explain your actions."

His reply was slow and hesitant, directed towards his half-sisters in a voice with a higher, vibrant timbre. "After seeing to Ryoko's imprisonment, and to the safekeeping of my Royal Tree, I wandered about these islands for a few years. I was astonished to find another Power adept here, like myself...like my mother. A beautiful young woman named Itsuki. We fell in love, we were married, and we settled in this valley so that I could keep watch over Ryoko's sleep. After six centuries, though, she made her decision to raise a family. I knew I would lose her, of course, and it took her a while to convince me, but in the end she won out. After Achika's birth, she began to age normally, so with the aid of my tree I began to modify my appearance to match hers. It would have been very cruel for her to live with an ageless husband while she watched her own features whither away. By the end, I had grown accustomed to this facade — it matched my soul, you see, and I saw no reason to dispense with it."

Nobuyuki interrupted him. "Excuse me a moment. What do you mean, she started to age normally?"

"I'll answer that," Washu said. "Female Power adepts will remain vigorous and effective until they begin reproducing, at which point they revert to a normal human lifespan. It's nature's way of preventing overpopulation."

"Are you from Earth?" Nobuyuki asked Funaho.

"Yes. I was born on the island of Honshu nearly one thousand years ago."

"Then, why are you still alive?"

"I have been bonded to a Royal Tree for most of my life, which enabled me to overcome this cycle. Without that symbiosis, I would have been at the mercy of the natural order."

"So, when my Achika made the choice to raise a family..."

"...she knowingly gave up the chance of living for thousands of years, just so she could spend a normal life with you. She must have loved you very much, Mr. Masaki."

Nobuyuki looked first at Yosho, then at Tenchi. "And what about my son? How long will he live?"

"There's really no way of knowing," Washu answered. "He's a tremendously strong Power adept. He may live for a thousand years, or he may only live a few decades."

"What's the average life span for a male — what did you call it? — a Power adept?" Nobuyuki asked.

Washu shrugged. "A couple hundred years, usually. Unfortunately, there's another snag: the men compete for dominance, and only a few adepts truly survive to maturity. It's the male half of the population control mechanism."

Tenchi spoke up. "Wait a minute, I'm eighteen now — "

"Physically, you're an adult," Washu replied. "But an adept's skills and strengths take much longer to develop. It will be another thirty years before you reach full maturity. And then god help any man stupid enough to challenge you."

"Is dueling legal in the Juraian Empire?" Mihoshi asked.

"Yes," Funaho replied, "but normally only the gentry indulge in such activities. Not surprisingly, they are almost all Power adepts of one level or another."

"Just what do you mean by 'Power?'" asked Nobuyuki. "You keep tossing that term around."

"Power is a generic term for the ability to manipulate matter mentally," Washu answered. "You Earthlings use terms like ESP and Psionics, but it's all the same thing. We prefer the term Power because an adept does not contain within himself or herself sufficient energy to accomplish the feats they are capable of. The driving energy has to come from somewhere else. Some adepts are able to convert potential energy into kinetic energy, or extract it from ambient sources in the environment, or draw directly from artificial sources like electrical circuits. And then there are those rare few, like Tenchi, who can tap directly into the underlying fabric of space itself. During their fight on the Souja, Kagato had sealed off every source of energy he could think of — including borrowing energy from Tsunami. He had extensive overlapping shields in place. What Kagato didn't predict (and couldn't prevent) was that Tenchi could summon the Lighthawk Wings, which pull their energy directly from the quantum vacuum. Put bluntly, Kagato was outclassed and outmatched. And while he may have had more energy stored in Souja's crystals than Tenchi was able to process, he couldn't focus it all effectively. He paid for his mistakes in the end."

"Thank you," Ryoko whispered to Tenchi, leaning over and kissing his cheek.

"As a rule of thumb, the low end of the scale involves simple information exchanges of one sort or another, like clairvoyance or telepathy, while actual matter manipulation becomes much rarer. In theory, every human is born with the capabilities; in practice, only 1 person in 1,000 begins to display any of the basic level capabilities, and the percentages get correspondingly smaller as the difficulty increases. The actual number of true Power adepts may only hover at one in 100,000,000. Of course, since there are _trillions_ of humans spread across the galaxy, that opens the doors for an awful lot of adepts. And, don't forget that not all adepts are equal. There are superstars among this class, as well. You happen to be in the same room with several of them." Washu shrugged. "We galactics have been able to duplicate these phenomena mechanically for a long time, but there has always been a certain appreciation for those individuals who are able to do it naturally. Rather like comparing a photograph to a hand-painted portrait — the photograph may be more convenient, and maybe even more accurate, but the artist's efforts are seen to add a layer of expression that is lacking in the photo."

"That helps...somewhat. At least I know it isn't magic," Nobuyuki said.

"**Trillions** of people?" Tenchi muttered.

"Yes," Washu replied. "However, even though there are many interstellar empires, there are very few worlds like this one. Earth is at that unique transition period where high technology is spreading from isolated pockets to the global community, and when that happens population control will take firm effect. For now, though, it is a genetic hothouse — there are more people on this planet than on any four Juraian worlds. And the population is still increasing! It's no wonder there are more potential Power adepts here than anywhere else in this sector of the galaxy. If I were a geneticist, I'd be petitioning the empire to let me establish a research station here."

"Why don't you?" asked Funaho.

"I have my own genetic research to conduct," she replied, looking meaningfully at Tenchi.

Funaho looked again towards her son. "Tell them the rest, Yosho."

Yosho sighed. "I will die not long after Ryoko leaves this planet."

"Huh? What do I have to do with this?" Ryoko demanded

"Your gems have been feeding energy to my Royal Tree for the last seven hundred years, and it has been sustaining me from that reservoir. Once you and Tenchi leave for Jurai, and take those gems with you, that nourishment will be cut off. I'm already past my prime, you see."

"You mean you've been siphoning off my energy all these years?" Ryoko said angrily.

"Calm down, Ryoko," Washu said. "It's not his fault. And anyway, if he hadn't survived this long, then he never would have sired Achika. And if Achika hadn't been born, then neither would Tenchi."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Ryoko admitted grudgingly.

Tenchi: "Now I'm confused. If the women live centuries longer than the men — "

"That was why the symbiotic relationship with the Royal Trees was developed," Washu said. "The trees have long life spans, but they lack mobility; humans are short-lived, but are highly mobile. What a Power-sensitive human receives is a life-sustaining flow of energy that will keep him or her vigorous through and beyond the normal reproduction cycle; what the tree receives is vastly increased mobility and a chance to reproduce in many environments. The trouble is, there aren't many trees."

"That's what you intend for me, isn't it, Lady Funaho? To bond with one of the Royal Trees."

"Yes."

"What about Ayeka and Ryu-oh? Her tree has been nearly destroyed two or three times."

"It will recover, as long she stops taking it into combat so often," Washu replied. "You know, the thought occurs to me that Yosho's tree may still be mutable."

"How so?" Funaho asked.

"If it's been receiving supplementary energy from Ryoko all these years, it may have never fully rooted. If that's the case, it might be possible to restore some of its original configuration."

"That's assuming it wants to. That's assuming I want to." Yosho's face was closed and his voice was toneless.

"I was referring to the technical issues, not the emotional issues."

"Perhaps we should discuss that topic later," Funaho said. "And since we are dispensing with facades, Little Washu, perhaps you should revert to your proper appearance."

"Why? I'm very comfortable with this form."

"I find the image of my great-grandson marrying a pre-adolescent very disturbing."

"Tenchi hasn't complained."

"Then consider doing it as a personal favor for me."

"Well, I should probably get used to it anyway." Washu's figure blurred as she morphed into her adult form, her body growing and her voice deepening due to the transition. "Is this better, Lady Funaho?"

"Yes it is, Washu. Thank you for indulging me. Now, perhaps I should review a few facts — which I'm sure you are all very well aware of, but please bear with me. Just over seven centuries ago, Ryoko and Ryo-ohki artfully slipped through every layer of security around Jurai and attacked the palace itself, destroying numerous military installations and residential enclaves along the way. She failed to retrieve any of the Royal Trees, and Yosho went roaring after her, swearing to capture or kill the infamous space pirate.

"What followed was a deafening silence on the fate of both hunter and hunted. Many on the council were concerned because Yosho, as the oldest child, was by Juraian law the legal successor to Emperor Azusa. Many were just as glad to see him gone, since he also had the sad misfortune of being my son, and therefore a half-breed. Many eyes were even then looking to Ayeka as the First Crown Princess, since she was the next-oldest child and a full-blooded Juraian. And once again the distasteful discussion of half-breeds vs. purebloods reared its ugly head in Council meetings. Ayeka was more focused on finding Yosho than any inheritance concerns, and her much-heralded rescue mission was just the diversion Azusa needed to shelve the whole controversy. We even allowed Sasami to sneak aboard Ryu-oh, since that conveniently placed all of the heirs out of reach.

"During the reconstruction period that followed, Ayeka's rescue mission slipped out of the media limelight and was allowed to fade from public attention, and we asked the Galaxy Police to keep a discrete eye on Ryu-oh's location. 700 years may seem a long time, but with the intervening crises to worry about, and knowing you ladies were reasonably safe and secure, the time actually passed quickly. (You were definitely missed at home, though — Misaki and I spent many an evening pining for our children.)

"And then two years ago Tenchi freed Ryoko, and Ryu-oh followed Funaho's beacon into this solar system. Recent history from your perspective. What you don't know is the full consequences of your actions. Tenchi, last night you asked what is so important happening on Jurai that won't wait for your weddings? Quite a bit, actually.

"First, we submitted Mihoshi's report to the Grand Council for discussion, and someone on the council promptly leaked the unclassified data to the media."

"Unclassified?" Ayeka asked.

"Anything not related to the Royal Trees." Funaho replied. "That's privileged information, protected by a sworn oath, and anyone caught making such information public will get charged with treason. As it was, the bulk of the data released was about Tenchi. And needless to say the media had a field day with it: not only was Crown Prince Yosho alive and well, but he had an heir of his own; and the heir is a heroic paladin with Power attributes not seen in generations. This was followed a few months later by Baron Kitsune's interview, and the whole empire learned that the heir has won the heart of not one but **five** Power adepts. You cut a very romantic, swashbuckling figure, Tenchi, and you have no idea how eager the media is to get their hands on you."

Tenchi's shoulders slumped and he groaned audibly, accompanied by a mild Power spike. "Oh, great."

"There's already talk about a knighthood in your future." There were gasps around the room, and more than one hug for Tenchi, who was looking more miserable by the minute. "We found it very amusing that in the rush to get on the pro-Tenchi bandwagon, the little matter of your genetic heritage has been conveniently overlooked."

"No one cares that I'm only one-eighth Juraian?"

"Not with the public. And not with the majority of Council members, either. You can summon the Lighthawk Wings, which is a virtual stamp of approval of your pedigree. But there is a reason for our concern over your schedule. By tradition, most marriages are serially monogamous; polygamy and polyandry are seen occasionally; and rarest of all are the cluster marriages, which contain multiple wives and husbands. But, according to Juraian law, extra care must be taken to preserve the royal lineage. In essence, all parties have to be Power adepts, at least one of the consorts must be full-blooded Juraian, and the line of succession begins with the oldest offspring. In case the first-born becomes incapacitated or deceased before producing any heirs, then the line of succession reverts to the next oldest child. When applied to present circumstances, since Yosho is forced to remain on this planet, he cannot assume the throne. The line of succession now falls to his heir — which means you, Tenchi. You are legally Crown Prince, and in due time you will be required by Juraian law to assume the throne. Ayeka once again reverts to the 'spare' heir."

"What if I don't want to?" Tenchi asked. "I don't have the training for it, nor the inclination. Ayeka would make a much better monarch."

"That may be true, but it is also irrelevant — the law remains. Anyway, before we debate that issue any further, you should consider a few facts.

"First, if you abdicate in favor of Ayeka after assuming the throne, then you become subject to the law and may have to divorce your other wives. And Ayeka could then avail herself of the privilege to collect multiple consorts.

"Second, have you given any thought to children? I saw that leer, Ryoko, and I meant actual production, not practice." Ryoko blushed, there were chuckles around the room, and Tenchi reached over to hold her hand. "It becomes a very important consideration due to the line of succession. I would give serious consideration to postponing that decision for a while, for the reasons stated earlier.

"Third, this is a painful thing for me to say, Tenchi, and could be even more painful to deal with, but the simple fact of the matter is that your great-grandfather doesn't like you very much. Not only were you sired away from Jurai, and thus away from any influence he might have had in picking your parents, but you have already demonstrated your superior Power attributes. Rather than taking the prudent and less inflammatory route of mentoring you in private, he is going to attempt to manipulate you publicly."

"I knew it!" Ayeka said, simmering. "As soon as he tried to foist me off on that idiot Lord Seriyu — "

Tenchi reached over and took her hand, calming her instantly. "Forewarned is forearmed." He started to say something else when another Power spike erupted, this one very intense and protracted. Tenchi's back arched, and he closed his eyes in concentration or pain. Ryoko and Ayeka could feel his hands shaking, and everyone else watched with more than a little apprehension. The attack passed after a few moments, and Tenchi opened his eyes to some very worried expressions. "As I was saying, every little bit of information helps us prepare for the coming...discussions."

"Tenchi, would you like some tea?" Sasami asked.

"No thanks, Sasami. I'm fine." And he gave her a lopsided smile to ease her concern.

"Sasami, Dear, how do you feel about all this?" Funaho asked. "You're awfully young to be worrying about marriage."

"No I'm not. Ayeka was betrothed at an even younger age. Besides, I've already linked with Tenchi — why would I want anybody else?"

"What do you mean, you've already linked with him?"

"Through Tsunami."

"I don't understand."

There was shimmer in the air behind Sasami, and the ethereal form of Tsunami materialized. "That's because Sasami and I integrated many years ago, and Tenchi and I integrated just recently."

"Tsunami! What brings you here?"

"I was summoned."

"By who?"

"I called her," Sasami replied. "Actually, she's been listening the whole time." Tsunami and Sasami exchanged smiles.

"Tsunami, would you please explain how you are integrated with my half-daughter and my great-grandson?"

Tsunami recounted her rescue of Sasami during Ryoko's attack on the Jurai Royal Palace, and her rescue of Tenchi during Kagato's attack.

"I see," Funaho replied after a long silence. "Then please accept my deepest thanks."

"Am I already bonded to Tsunami?" Tenchi asked.

"Yes," Tsunami answered.

"Then that explains my ability to summon the Lighthawk Wings."

"No, that ability comes from within you. We are merely linked."

"Tsunami, can you bond to both Tenchi and Sasami at the same time?" Washu asked.

"Yes."

Washu started chuckling. "This just gets better and better!"

"Would you please explain that statement?" Funaho asked wearily.

"I told that emissary you sent last year that this was going to happen. I just didn't expect it so early."

"Expect what so early?"

"The linkage. Ryoko, Ryo-ohki and I have always been linked, and now this link between Tenchi and Sasami — "

" — And my link with Ryoko," Tenchi added.

"What link?" Ryoko asked.

"I was in Washu's lab when Dr. Clay kidnapped you, but I heard you call my name."

"You did? Really?"

"Yes. Really."

"I remember that," Washu said thoughtfully. "I thought you were hearing things at the time. Funny I didn't feel anything just then..."

"Why don't I feel a link with Tenchi?" Ayeka interrupted.

Ryoko chuckled and smirked. "Do you want **me** to answer that?"

"Oh, be quiet, Ryoko. Actually, Ayeka, it requires an emotional trigger. You've been keeping your feelings too tightly controlled. I'm sure that will change after the wedding — most likely on your honeymoon!" Washu said with a cackle.

"Thanks for the help, 'Mom.'"

"Any time, Little Ryoko. As I was saying, I warned the emissary that we would begin linking to each other, and Tenchi was going to be the linchpin. I see it's already started."

"Why haven't I felt a link with Tenchi?" Mihoshi asked quietly. "I'm an empath, after all — feelings are my specialty."

"I'm guessing you already have," Washu answered, "it just gets lost in the noise from everyone else. Maybe you should try a little meditation, or maybe bio-feedback."

"Could you help me?"

"Sure. In fact, I have just the piece of equipment in my lab to wire you up to!"

"Washu!" Tenchi growled.

"Just kidding, just kidding," she replied.

"Perhaps we should take a break," Yosho suggested.

Everyone began standing and stretching, drifting off to attend to various activities. Funaho turned to address Mihoshi, who was still sitting on the floor. "Mihoshi, are you alright?"

"What? Oh! Sorry, Your Majesty. No, I'm fine."

"You were staring off into space. Were you daydreaming?"

"No, I was concentrating."

"On what?"

"I was trying to isolate Tenchi's feelings from everyone else in the room."

"Is that difficult to do?"

"Yes. There are so many people in here right now, it's hard to extract just one source. And since everyone in here is related, the normal barriers have been removed: everyone is expressing themselves openly and honestly and very emotionally."

"Mihoshi, how do you feel about this marriage? It's a very unusual situation."

"Tenchi is a very unusual person. It doesn't surprise me that whatever circumstances he's involved in will require unusual arrangements."

"But don't you feel jealous of the other ladies? Having to share your husband, and all?"

"Well, it's only natural. But my parents were often away on GP business, usually at the same time. My brother and I never seemed to have enough time with them. So my parents scheduled special times for each of us, where each us of had their attention exclusively. Some of my fondest memories are of my special times. I think Tenchi has something like that planned already. Besides, I probably won't be around much."

"Oh? Why?"

"As a Galaxy Police person, I will be away on assignments or on patrol on a regular basis."

"And you don't think you will be reassigned to into Jurai's district?"

"Eventually, I suppose. I'll put in the request, naturally, but I can't guarantee anything. I'll also talk to my grandfather about it."

"Would it help if I talked to your supervisors, too?"

"Oh, that would be wonderful! Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Since we're going to be related soon, why don't you just call me Lady Funaho."

"If you wish, Lady Funaho," Mihoshi blushed with embarrassment.

"What do your parents think of this marriage?"

"Oh, they're quite excited. I sent them a photo of Tenchi and I, but I made them promise not to say anything publicly until it was officially announced."

"Do they know the circumstances about how you met him?"

"No, I keep my letters home pretty vague. I told my grandfather, though. He was already aware of most of the details."

"Will you be writing a report about our being here this weekend?"

"Well, my orders were to report anything in this system that involves the Royal Family. But as this is a family meeting about family issues, I will probably just mention that you were here for Tenchi's graduation. It hardly seems worth an analysis."

"I completely agree with you, Mihoshi."

############

"I'm afraid I have trouble thinking of you as my grandfather now," said Tenchi. He and Yosho had drifted over to stand by the front door, watching the falling snow through the windows.

"That's understandable," Yosho replied. "Placing a new face on an old figure is a shock to anyone."

"Grandpa...why didn't you rescue Ryoko from Kagato? You're much more experienced than I am."

"I could not. I fought him briefly, remember, and he just toyed with me. His using Ryoko was a simple diversion; had I dispatched her, I still could not have beaten him. Only you could do that."

"Are you so sure?"

"Yes. I cannot summon the Lighthawk Wings. And that is only the beginning of your abilities."

"But I saw you use a Lighthawk wing during your fight with Ryoko!"

"No, the Tenchi-ken is able to project a small shield, and that is what you saw. My own Power expression is centered on clairvoyant and precognitive talents, although I do have some modest psychokinetic abilities."

"That would explain those large leaps you made. And I can see where your other talents would be real useful for a swordsman."

Yosho nodded. "Indeed. But, I cannot even match my own father's Power level — you have already overshadowed us both."

"Everyone says that, but I find it hard to believe."

"Your belief doesn't change any of the facts. But your belief will affect the speed at which you respond to them. To deny your talents will only postpone their inevitable emergence. To embrace them will make their acceptance and integration that much easier. Have faith in yourself, Tenchi. Everyone else here has faith in you." He put a hand on Tenchi's shoulder, as a gesture of support.

"Grandpa, would you return to Jurai if you could?"

"I don't know. Washu's comment came as a complete surprise. I will have to think about it. In time, perhaps..."

############

Sasami was puttering around the kitchen, checking her supplies for that night's meal, when she heard footsteps. She looked up to see Mihoshi walk into the kitchen, pour herself a cup of tea, and then sit at he regular place at the table. She was alone, and she had a pinched look on her face. Curious, Sasami sat down across from her. "What's up, Mihoshi? Why aren't you out there with everyone else?"

Mihoshi stared at her for a moment, before focusing on her face. "Oh! I didn't realize you were there. Sorry, Sasami. Did you say something?"

"You seem a bit distracted," Sasami replied. She was kind enough not to say 'more than usual,' which is what her sister would have added. Sasami liked Mihoshi, even if the others in the house found her difficult to relate to.

"I was trying to concentrate on Tenchi," she replied. "I was trying to identify his emotions in there, but there were so many disturbances that I just couldn't get a firm fix. Actually, that bothers me, because I've never really had that problem before."

"Maybe you're trying too hard."

"Well, that could be. I was trying to see if we have a link, like he and Ryoko do. Like he and you do. Washu thinks we do, but I don't feel it."

"What do you think it should feel like?"

"I don't really know. I don't think it would be like telepathy, but I would expect it to be stronger than what I read from everyone else. What's your link like?"

Sasami shrugged. "Like talking to him, but a lot more limited. Simple ideas, strong feelings. I can tell when he's upset, or happy, or hungry. Sometimes I can show him my dreams, or parts of them. It's nice to have somebody to share with."

"What about Tsunami? Don't you talk with her?"

"It's different with her...like hearing an echo of my own voice. But Tenchi is a separate person, so it feels more like a normal conversation. It's hard to describe."

"Actually, I think I have a pretty good idea. If you don't mind, I think I will just sit in here where it's quiet, and try to figure this out."

"Ok," Sasami said, grinning at her friend. She went back to her recipe cards and inventory.

############

Ryoko had slipped into one of the corners, trying to decide if this would be a good time to retreat to her rafter. If it weren't for the fact that Tenchi would probably be real annoyed with her, she would have done it already. That's when she realized that the Imperial Consort was standing in front of her, smiling politely, and effectively blocking her in. She returned the smile, albeit hesitantly. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"My son tells us you wish to become Tenchi's bodyguard," Funaho said. "He speaks very highly of your fighting prowess, your situational awareness, and your vigilance. And your devotion is beyond question."

"Uh, thanks. I'm glad he's satisfied with my credentials."

"Palace security is partly my responsibility, as is finding qualified personnel. You would fit in quite nicely, assuming you are able to adapt to my team."

"Your team?"

"There are security details attached to each member of the Royal Family, to provide round-the-clock coverage, as well as covering activities outside the palace. All these functions require a coordinated effort, with information sharing, backups, training in state-of-the-art hardware, and periodic updates on possible threat assessments. I have a small, but very proficient staff."

"I hadn't realized that there was so much involved in guarding someone," Ryoko admitted.

"You would be a very valuable asset — but we don't tolerate mavericks. And you would have to learn to take orders. Oh, don't look so dubious, Ryoko. Can't you see the benefits in working with a team of professionals to help protect your husband? And they would rest a little easier knowing someone so formidable was standing beside Tenchi. It's all for mutual support."

"I'll have to think about it."

"And while you're thinking, I have another idea for your consideration."

"Oh?"

"I'm also responsible for intelligence gathering. And I'm required to send unscheduled inspection teams into military installations, to test and evaluate their readiness. I've looked over the Galaxy Police's dossier on you, and your exploits for Kagato are impressive. I could use someone like you, too. Perhaps paired with Mihoshi..."

"Mihoshi? You'll have to explain that one for me, Your Majesty."

"Call me Lady Funaho. Mihoshi has three talents that make her an ideal partner for you: she has a great eye for details, she has incredible quantities of luck, and according to Washu she is simply pure death to complicated machinery. What you couldn't phase through she would easily disrupt. And I can't think of a better source of diversions."

Ryoko couldn't help laughing. "That's quite a picture you paint, Lady Funaho. Have you talked to her about it?"

"No, but getting her reassigned as a liaison to the Royal Intelligence Service should be no problem. It might even add some stability to her marriage with Tenchi, since she would be home more often."

"Let me think about that, too, ok?"

"Of course. It will be a few months before you settle on Jurai, so there is plenty of time to ponder. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask."

Ryoko idly twisted her brooch — she'd slept with it on — and admitted that it would be fun to take Ryo-ohki back into the space lanes again, only this time as a privateer rather than a pirate. She might even learn to like The Ditz. Her eyes rested momentarily on Yosho, and she shuddered; she feared that face. The grizzled, gray-haired image had not scared her like the young warrior, and it had been difficult to equate the elder shrine-master with the man who had defeated and imprisoned her. Only one thing could make her stay in this house now: Tenchi. His back was turned to her, but she would know that figure anywhere. She felt the old craving rising in her, the need to embrace him and hang on for dear life, and the only reason she didn't teleport beside him that very second was the need to be civil to his powerful great-grandmother. At that moment Tenchi turned and glanced at her briefly, his lips twitched into a quick grin, and the word _"Later"_ caressed her mind. She gasped.

"I see that link is very real," Funaho said.

Ryoko blushed. "Is it that obvious?"

"Yes it is. I envy you. Ryoko, how much of your past does Tenchi know about?"

"Not much. He hasn't asked, and I haven't offered. I've always been afraid it might scare him away."

"I doubt much would deter that boy when he sets his mind to something. You won't be rid of him so easily."

"I sure hope you're right," Ryoko said, momentarily unsettled by the sheer thought of life without Tenchi.

"What was it like, those years with Kagato?"

"A constant nightmare. He kept me in stasis most of the time, feeding me information subliminally. Usually it was about the next target, but sometimes just behavioral skills; he wanted me to be a proper little saboteur, or spy, or thief...whatever he needed. Mercifully, he reserved the most terrible deeds for himself — I never did any kidnappings or assassinations. But for me, the worst part of my missions was observing the people around me. I saw what I was missing, what I thought I'd never have. Even the simple pleasures were forbidden, because he was thought they might trigger some rebellion on my part. I was deathly afraid to even sample them, because then I would be punished. And his punishments were awful. Some of his assignments were so bad that I just refused to obey — so he'd take control of my mind and turn me into a damned marionette. The raid on Jurai was like that: I refused, he enslaved me, and I was forced to watch helplessly while he committed atrocities with my hands. You wouldn't believe the nightmares I have."

"It's amazing that you survived all of that, and your imprisonment on Earth as well. It says much about the strength of your character."

"Thank you."

"You appear to be making a solid recovery."

"That's because I've had one single focus for the last two years."

"And what is that?"

"Tenchi." She put a great deal of feeling into that one word, and that brought the subject turning around once more. He studied her for a moment, excused himself from his conversation, and crossed the room.

"What's wrong, Ryoko?" Tenchi whispered into her ear "You seem upset about something?"

"I am," she whispered back. "Can we talk somewhere in private?"

"Uh, yeah — we can go to my room. That should be private enough."

Ryoko embraced him and teleported them directly into his room. Once, there, she did not let go of him. And Tenchi, sensing her distress, maintained his own embrace.

"Ok, what's wrong?" he asked.

"It's Yosho. I can't...his face...Tenchi, I'm frightened of him."

"I can't say I know how you feel, but I can appreciate the way you feel. I'm having some difficulty myself."

"No, you don't know how I feel. Tenchi, that face was the last thing I saw before I was locked in my tomb. I can't look at that face without feeling the centuries of cold and dark rushing over me again, burying me alive. I know it doesn't make sense, but I can't help it. If you weren't here I'd be gone in a flash, and I'd never come back."

Tenchi sighed. "Would it help if you stayed here until lunch-time? He'll go back to his own quarters afterward."

Ryoko was relieved. "I was hoping you'd offer. Thanks." She smiled mischievously, and said, "Actually, it would help even more if we **both** stayed here until lunchtime; I know a way to make the time pass eventfully."

Tenchi chuckled. "Now I know you're feeling better. Look, the wedding is only a few weeks away..."

"I know, I know," Ryoko pouted. "But you can't blame a girl for trying, can you?"

"What are you going to do in here for the next few hours?"

Ryoko climbed onto his bed and crawled under the covers. "I'm going to take a nap. Now, why don't you tuck me in? And call me when lunch is ready."

############

"Ayeka, Dear, you keep staring at Yosho." Funaho had encountered Ayeka coming out of the kitchen, where she had gone to talk to her sister. The princess had been standing quietly, looking at her half-brothers back.

"Am I? I don't mean to."

"Are you having second thoughts about marrying Tenchi? It's understandable, finding out that your original betrothed is not only still alive, but still young and virile..."

"I will confess that I occasionally wondered what I would do if that question ever arose. It seemed an unlikely event."

"Yet, here it is."

"Yes, here it is. But I can honestly say that there is no real question. Yosho may still retain his youth, but I've looked into his eyes and there is not much joy there. He left me long ago, with no intention of ever returning. He met and married another woman, raised a family, and now his heart is full of memories with no room for anyone else. But Tenchi is young, and handsome, and has every intention of staying with me. I could not live without him."

Tenchi stood at the top of the stairs and paused, cocking his head to one side. He descended slowly, looking around the room, and then crossed over to her. "Ayeka? Did you call me?"

Ayeka looked astonished, giggled, and then wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Tenchi was surprised, and responded a bit nervously knowing a bemused Funaho was watching them. "Yes, I called you. I think Sasami needs your help in the kitchen."

"Oh. Ok." He walked around them and into the kitchen, shaking his head.

Ayeka giggled again. "Now we have a link, too!"

"And you don't object to sharing him with the other ladies?" Funaho asked.

Ayeka sighed. "It is still a source of strife. I will admit that I am jealous when I see him with the others, but I keep telling myself that it is necessary." She shrugged dejectedly. "I just have to learn to accept this situation, and remind myself that the private moments may be few and far between, but are well worth the price. This arrangement was not Tenchi's idea, and I think he agreed to it simply because it seemed the path of least resistance. I am also giving more credence to Washu's warning that he will need all of us in the years to come. Tell me, Funaho, how did you learn to accept my mothers presence in your marriage?"

"I very nearly didn't." She idly rubbed the jewel implanted in her forehead, the Imperial marking denoting her rank as senior wife. They both knew the original circumstances, Funaho from experience and Ayeka from narrative. Azusa Masaki had steered his crippled starship into a forced landing in southern Japan, ca. 13th Century CE, when he had sensed her Power level. Curious, and with ample time on his hands while he repaired his ship, he had investigated. The subsequent courtship and marriage, while something of a whirlwind in their own right, were nothing compared to the tempest they encountered when she was presented at court. Much of the Juraian aristocracy did not approve of the inter-racial marriage of their future emperor, who considered such a move as the dilution of his bloodline. The birth of their son Yosho caused a great schism within Juraian society. The subsequent discontent nearly resulted in civil war, which was averted only when Azusa agreed to take a second wife. The law was modified and Azusa married Misaki, who was the choice of the nobility. "Your father was emperor by then, and quite eager to establish his authority. When he yielded to the demands that he take another consort, I was crushed. I offered to accept a divorce and to return to Earth, but he would not listen. He had compromised enough, he declared, and to permit me to return to my homeworld would show too much weakness. Fortunately, your mother and I established a working relationship early on. We are closer now than sisters, and we adjusted to the circumstances long ago."

"And I'm sure we will, too."

############

"Sasami? Ayeka said you needed my help."

Sasami looked up from the pot she was stirring and frowned. "No, I don't think so. Sorry, Tenchi."

"Oh, that's ok."

"But **she** needs your help," Sasami said, pointing to where Mihoshi was sitting. Her head was in her hands, and she appeared pretty dejected. Tenchi walked over to the table and slid into the seat Sasami had vacated.

"What's up, Mihoshi?"

"I can't feel you," she replied absently.

Tenchi reached across the table and took her hand. "Can you feel me now?" He smiled, hoping the joke would lighten her mood.

It didn't. "I can feel your hand, but not your heart," she said forlornly.

"I don't understand," he replied, not for the first time.

She looked into his eyes. "I want a link like you and Ryoko share, or like you and Sasami share. But I can't even read your emotions while you're sitting right in front of me. It's like you're only half there!"

Tenchi stood and walked around the table, stopping behind Mihoshi's chair. He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently. "I don't know what to say, other than I love you."

She put her hands on his and leaned backwards into his chest. "That means a great deal to me."

"You know," he said, "maybe not being able to read me is a blessing in disguise. Don't you get fatigued by all of the emotional backwash from everyone around you?"

"Yes," she replied slowly.

"If you could read me more intensely than anyone else, wouldn't that cause you to burn out? Like an overloaded circuit?"

"I hadn't thought of that," she said, perking up. "And it makes sense." It also explained why she had never had this problem with her previous boyfriends — she had never linked with them (but she wasn't going to mention that little item). She stood up and spun around so fast she tipped her chair over, locking her arms around her startled fiancée. "Then we really are linked! Oh, I'm so happy!" And she pulled Tenchi into a passionate kiss.

Sasami watched from the stove, grinning. She could feel Tenchi's confusion, and she could see Mihoshi's relief. She liked happy endings. Now, what should she make for dessert?

############

Washu was standing at the front window, looking out at the lake. Funaho moved silently over to stand beside her.

"It's still snowing, I see," Funaho said.

"Yes," Washu answered. "It will probably snow all day."

"I don't see much snow on Jurai. I had forgotten how beautiful it is."

Washu turned to smirk at her. "As long as your car isn't stuck in it! So tell me, Lady Funaho, is it my turn now? I've been watching you working the crowd."

"I'm just surprised that you agreed to this marriage, Washu. You were such a confirmed recluse for so long after your first marriage."

"So you know about that, eh? That damned Mihoshi..."

"Don't blame her; it was in the dossier that the Galaxy Police compiled after your kidnapping."

"Well, circumstances have a way of changing your outlook on life."

"Circumstances like Tenchi?"

"Yes. Actually, he's redeemed all of us, one way or another."

"How so?"

Washu turned and indicated the other residents of the house. "Shall we look at specifics? Two years ago my Ryoko was buried in a crypt, a bitter lonely soul with no hope for happiness, let alone freedom, and haunted by memories that could damn her for all eternity. Tenchi freed her body and her heart, and now she has dreams and hopes again.

"Two years ago Ayeka was in stasis, seeking her half-brother or vengeance on his killer. Not only has Tenchi dispelled the desire for either, but she has had to willingly get her hands dirty and learn to get along with ordinary people. The haughty princess has been humanized...and she will be a better ruler for it.

"Two years ago Sasami was in stasis with her sister. She simply dreaded the life she had been leading. She was plagued by nightmares, she had no real friends, and running away with Ayeka was a golden opportunity. Here she has a stable home, where her talents are appreciated and given free rein. Tenchi is the anchor in her life, now, and she turns to him when she needs to be comforted.

"Two years ago Mihoshi was on her way to a breakdown. Long periods of isolation while on patrol, no proximity to family or friends, a growing reputation as a jinx, and accused of nepotism because of her highly placed relatives. It's no wonder her performance ratings had been dropping steadily. I don't think she would have lasted much longer in the Galaxy Police, and that could have dealt her a crushing blow. Since meeting Tenchi, she has turned her life around."

"What about you, Washu? How has my great-grandson redeemed your life?"

"Aside from the trivial stuff like love and affection? I want to bear his child." Washu was watching Funaho's face, and smiled at the reaction she saw there. "Don't look so shocked, Lady Funaho, it's really a very logical decision.

"My first child was taken from me because I lacked the prestige or the wealth to keep him. My social standing and pedigree wasn't good enough, and my husband's family thought I was incapable of raising our son in an 'acceptable' or 'proper' environment.

"My second child was taken from me because I wasn't strong enough to protect her. What was worse, I knew she was being abused and corrupted, and I was totally powerless to do anything. I couldn't even close the link we shared, so I felt the echo of every horror she was subjected to.

"But my next child will be born into the Imperial Family, at the absolute top of the social structure. And the child's father will be the mightiest mortal in the galaxy." Her voice turned to steel, and her eyes simmered. "No one will dare raise a hand against me or my baby. Not ever again."

############

Tenchi lay in the shallow end of the pool, his head anchored out of the water, while the rest of his body sloped down the incline into the steamy water. He cleared his mind of all thought, just letting the heat seep into his muscles. Those Power spikes were worrying him, and he thought about them while he idly played with his sensor-laden necklace.

He heard their voices before he saw them, watching their bare feet through half-raised eyelids. Ryoko settled into the pool on his right side, Ayeka on his left, Washu beyond Ryoko, Mihoshi beyond Ayeka, and across from him Sasami and Funaho settled into the deeper water. They each wore nothing but a towel (even uninhibited Ryoko wore one, out of deference to Lady Funaho); at one time Tenchi might have felt nervous about the arrangement. But he had learned through hard experience never to enter the _onsen_ without a towel of his own, because his solitary baths often ended in ambushes. He didn't even flinch when four pairs of feet draped themselves over his legs, prodding and digging teasingly. There was the clatter of dishes and the unmistakable sound of a sake bottle being opened.

"Tenchi," Ryoko cooed, "would you like a little drink?"

To everyone's surprise, he answered in the affirmative. He rarely drank anything alcoholic, but he was definitely in the mood today.

"Here, Sir Tenchi," Washu said, handing him a cup.

"Please don't call me that," Tenchi replied. "I don't deserve to be knighted."

"You most certainly do deserve it," Funaho said. "And there are three knightly orders on Jurai that agree with that assessment, or they wouldn't be competing for the honor."

"I'm no hero," he said through a mouthful of sake.

"You are to these ladies. You freed them from Kagato."

"It was a group effort — it took all of us working together."

"Yes, they helped; but in the end it was you who went toe-to-toe with that monster in his own lair, completely alone. You not only rescued them, but you saved the lives of millions of people on this planet that he would have butchered for his own amusement."

"Damn straight!" Ryoko muttered. "I've seen him do it."

"I didn't fight him for glory, or a title. I fought to free my friends. I was angry, and scared."

"And you shouldered your fears and faced him anyway. If that isn't heroism, what is?" Funaho asked.

"Can we talk about something else?"

Wisely, Funaho dropped the subject. She could see that her great-grandson was truly modest and troubled by the whole topic. It could wait for another time. "Very well. Tell, me ladies, what do you intend to do on your honeymoon — besides the obvious, of course. Ryoko?"

"Well, since we're kinda limited on funding, I suppose we'll just find a hotel near a beach somewhere." She looked at Tenchi for confirmation, but he was staring into his sake.

"Ryoko, Dear, you will be marrying a prince of the Juraian Empire. Funding will not be an issue; I'm reasonably sure we can have sufficient resources transported here and converted to the local currency in time for your honeymoon."

"Well, if that's the case — I want to go on a cruise!"

"Huh?" Tenchi muttered, looking up.

"The cruise ships that sail this planet's oceans are equipped with casinos and restaurants and nightclubs and swimming pools and sundecks and private cabins with room service. I want a whole week of exciting days and intimate nights!" She elbowed her fiancée, trying to share the vision she was seeing.

"Sounds like fun," he agreed.

"Then consider it arranged," Funaho replied, making a mental note to discuss the details with Yosho later. "Washu? You're next in line, what do you have planned?"

"I think we'll just spend the week in my lab curled-up with a good book."

"That doesn't sound very memorable. What book are you talking about?"

"A local text called the _Kama Sutra_."

Tenchi choked on a mouthful of sake, and Ayeka and Ryoko took turns slapping his back.

Funaho watched with one raised eyebrow. "I take it this book contains something significant?"

"I prefer to think of it as inspirational," Washu replied, grinning wickedly. "I found it not long ago while looking for pertinent reference materials. It contains some extremely interesting suggestions for experimental research. And don't worry, Tenchi, I have a large stock of vitamin supplements and anti-inflammatory crèmes on hand. Just in case."

Tenchi reached for the sake bottle.

"Ah, I see. Mihoshi, what about you?"

"Well," she giggled, "There is a luxury resort in close orbit around one of my home system's gas giants. I hear it has absolutely spectacular views of the cloud formations, as well as the rings. And the food is supposed to be five-star."

"I would think you'd get enough space travel in your line of work."

"Uh, actually, the suites also have variable-balancer controls. And there are some zero-gravity experiments I'd like to try." She blushed under the astonished looks she received.

"What kind of experiments?" Washu asked, intrigued.

"Well, there was a raid on an orbiting brothel in the Zeta Artenis system a year ago by one of our vice units, and among the documentation they recovered were some training manuals for new employees. I hear they were pretty extensive."

"Have you read any of these manuals?" Washu asked, a calculating smile spreading across her face.

"No, but I can get copies."

"Care to exchange information?"

"Sure, if you will — and some of those supplements."

"Deal!" Washu said, extending her hand.

Mihoshi shook it, satisfaction painted on her face.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Ryoko interrupted.

"Yes, just what do you two think you are doing?" Ayeka chorused.

Washu just smiled sweetly at her Companions. "What's the matter, ladies — feeling left out?" Ryoko and Ayeka both had the decency to blush at the discreet reference to their own little arrangement.

Tenchi groaned and drained his cup.

Across the pool, Funaho was biting the insides of her cheeks. "Ayeka, Dear, what about you?"

Ayeka stirred her sake for a moment. "Something traditional. A cruise through the home system, perhaps, or a week at one of the tropical island resorts. I haven't really given it much thought."

"I would highly recommend that you do."

"Is four months long enough to plan for a royal wedding?"

"It will have to be, unless you'd care to postpone it for a while?" Funaho saw the look in Ayeka's eyes and smiled. "No, I didn't think you would. I'll send a courier 'bot to the Royal Chamberlain in the next couple of days, with a list of details and suggestions."

"Thank you, Funaho."

"And what about you, Sasami? We don't want you to be left out of these discussions."

"I figure I'll get my betrothal banquet after Ayeka's wedding," Sasami replied. "I've heard her banquet was pretty spectacular, and I want one like it."

"I think that's a very sensible idea," Funaho smiled and placed her hand on Sasami's shoulder. "I'm sure Misaki will look forward to planning it with you."

"Well, I'll have a few things to say about the food," she said. She noticed all the grins around the pool. "What?"

"There is something else I am concerned about," Funaho said. "I had to adapt to Juraian cultural traditions when I left this world, and I made many mistakes in the transition. It was a difficult period, and I would spare you ladies some of that grief. Perhaps we should discuss some of the marital traditions common among the upper castes."

"Uh, oh," Tenchi muttered. "I'm not sure I should listen to this."

"I think you should. You do have a stake in it," Funaho answered with upraised eyebrows.

"Does this involve that whips-and-chains thing?" He looked over at Ayeka, who nodded. "I've heard this already, Lady Funaho. I'm not sure I agree with it."

"Nonetheless, you should be aware of it. Ayeka will be expected to uphold the traditions."

"Absolutely," Ayeka confirmed. A frown was forming on her face, as the other females present exchanged confused expressions. "You agreed to it, Beloved."

"I agreed to try it, yes. But I also said that we might need to modify it a bit. Coming from a backwater like Earth, the idea takes some getting used to." He looked to his great-grand-mother. "If you don't mind my asking, Lady Funaho, did you accept the practice?"

"Not completely," she answered. "I have some difficulty with the instruments, and I will admit that assimilating some of the deeper concepts has been a challenge. Fortunately, Lord Azusa was willing to make some compromises." She smiled. "Of course, I was the daughter of a _daimyo_, and before leaving this planet I received some training in the exotic arts. My husband has had little to complain about." The smile softened. "And that is why we should discuss this now. I am aware of the traditions that Ayeka will bring to the marriage bed, but I wondered about what you other ladies may be asking of Tenchi."

At this point, Washu interrupted: "Excuse me, please. Just what whips-and-chains tradition are you talking about? Ayeka, are you a closet dominatrix?" Ryoko and Mihoshi just stared open-mouthed.

"I would not describe our traditions so crudely, but there are similarities."

"Tenchi, maybe you should escort Sasami back to the house," Washu advised.

"That is unnecessary," Funaho interrupted. "There is nothing we will discuss that she hasn't heard already."

"Yeah," Sasami added. "I've been watching Mommy teach Ayeka the whip techniques for years. I can't wait to try them myself, when I'm older!"

"Oh, God," Tenchi said.

"If you think I'm going to allow anyone to chain MY Tenchi and take a whip to him — " Ryoko growled.

"He is not just 'your' Tenchi. He never has been." Ayeka took a deep breath to keep her temper in check. "And the application of the whip is very discriminating, it is not intended as a — "

"I DON'T CARE!" Ryoko exploded.

"May I handle this?" Funaho asked.

"Please do," Ayeka replied.

Tenchi started to reach for the sake bottle again when the tremors started. He likened them to a caffeine buzz. He also became aware of a roaring in his ears, of sweat beading out across his skin, and a growing nausea. He was trying to decide whether he should make an effort to get to the Men's changing room — and the toilet in it — when he became aware that the conversation around him had ceased, and everyone was watching him.

"Tenchi, are you alright?" Washu asked.

He decided this wasn't the time for macho posturing. "No," he answered. "I feel...odd."

"Is it the sake?" Mihoshi asked.

"I don't think so," Washu replied. "He's not flushed, he's pale. And I felt his Power level flicker." With a gesture, she summoned her terminal. She typed several sets of commands, pursing her lips as she watched the results. "I think you might want to go lie down, Tenchi."

"Yeah, I was just thinking that myself." He lurched to his feet, and started walking slowly towards the dressing room. Ryoko materialized beside him and grabbed his arm seconds before he staggered. "Thanks," he whispered. He fought the nausea and growing disorientation. She got him through the changing room door, and sat him down on the bench near his clothes. "I'll be ok, now," he told her.

"Do you need help changing?"

He attempted a smile for her, "Still trying to get me naked, huh?" But the smile was even weaker than the joke. "No, I'll manage. And if I do heave, there's no reason for you to sit here and watch. Go on back and join the others. I'll call you if I need you."

"Promise?"

"Promise." She kissed him and teleported out of the room. He briefly considered crawling over to the toilet and forcing the situation, but decided against it. It took a concerted effort to dress himself. His ailment was manageable as long as remained occupied, so once he had finished putting his clothes on, he decided to walk back to the house. He opened the door and slipped quietly away, making every effort not to disturb the women who were involved in an animated discussion.

He was sweating profusely, and his coat felt heavy and stifling, so he removed it. The cold air felt welcome, and the breeze dried/froze the sweat on his face. But the glare off the snow was giving him a headache on top of his other symptoms. The longer he walked, the more nauseated he became, and the roaring in his ears increased, and the disorientation got worse. He wasn't really surprised when he fell.

He sat up, feeling around for his jacket, and was surprised to discover that he was sitting on wooden planks. "Oh, great," he muttered, "How the heck did I get out on the dock?" He forced himself onto his knees, which took a lot of effort. Sweating, dizzy, on the verge of puking his guts out, and now stranded on the dock, he wondered what else could possibly go wrong. His answer was a Power spike. It started in the small of his back, surging up his spine like a boiling wave. When it reached his shoulders it simultaneously rolled up his neck and over his head while foaming down his arms and into his fingers. His hands jerked away from his body as the Lighthawk Wings flashed unbidden into existence. By then he wasn't really aware that that they had appeared, because his back had arched and a scream erupted from his lips.

"What was that?" Washu felt the Power spike, as had her Companions. She watched her monitors showing the spike — except it wasn't a spike, it was a surge, and it was increasing in intensity. "Where's Tenchi?"

"He's still in the changing room," Ryoko replied.

"Go check on him." This didn't look good, and she sounded worried.

"He's not in there!" Ryoko had partially phased through the wall, so only her head was showing. They were all feeling the Power surge now, and their faces mirrored each others concern.

"Spread out and find him."

"There he is!" Mihoshi gasped, pointing down through the wall of the _onsen_ towards the dock. They clustered around her, shocked by what they were seeing: Tenchi was on his knees, screaming at the sky, while the Lighthawk Wings hovered before him.

Except the wings didn't behave normally. They were twisting and curling like wind-blown leaves, erratically changing in brightness. Until with one savage coordinated movement they elongated and widened and englobed their master, swallowing him whole like a three-jawed mouth.

There was a collective scream from the _onsen_, and six pairs of eyes stared in horror at the pulsing sphere that lay on the dock where Tenchi had crouched moments before.

Ryoko teleported across the distance instantly, forming her black jumpsuit around her the moment she appeared over the globe. With an angry cry she tried hurling needle-like blasts of energy across its surface, and then attacking the sphere with her energy sword. Her attempts produced nothing but showers of sparks.

By this time the others had dressed and hurried to the dock, watching Ryoko snarl in frustration.

Again, Washu summoned her shadow-like terminal. "Well, I'm still getting telemetry readings from my sensors. That shell is allowing oxygen in and carbon dioxide out, so he's not in any danger of suffocation. His metabolism is slowing down, though; heart rate, respiration...almost like's he's going into stasis. It also looks like there's no gravity in there."

"I'm going to try and phase through that shell," Ryoko announced.

"No," Tsunami's voice rang loudly in their ears. Moments later she appeared between the galactics and the sphere. "If you attempt a forced entrance you will kill him. That is a controlled environment, and you would disturb the balance."

"But I've got to free Tenchi from that prison!" Ryoko exclaimed

"Tenchi is not being held against his will. He created that cocoon himself."

"And how do you know that?"

"I have witnessed this process before."

"A cocoon?" Washu asked. "Why would Tenchi need a cocoon?"

"Every chrysalis instinctively protects itself during metamorphosis," Tsunami answered.

"What are you saying, that our Tenchi is a pupa?"

"Yes. It will be three or four days before his metamorphosis is complete, and for his safety you should not interfere."

"Tsunami, how many times have you seen this process?" Funaho asked.

"I've seen four complete transformations in the last 20,000 years. I have seen five incomplete ones."

"Incomplete? What do you mean?"

"They died. Survival is not guaranteed."

"Transformation?" Washu asked. "Into what?"

"An adult."

"Who were the four people that survived this process?" Funaho asked.

"Emperor Ashisato, Emperor Fusatane, Empress Mineko, and Emperor Kuniteru."

"Why did they attempt this?"

"They could not prevent it. Anyone who summons the Lighthawk Wings is changed forever."

"Did Tenchi know about this price?" Ayeka asked.

"There is no 'price.' You do not understand."

"Maybe you'd better explain, Tsunami," Washu said.

"Many centuries ago, Emperor Ashisato was trying to unite the people of Jurai against the threat of an invasion. He needed a tool, or a weapon, or a symbol, something to rally his subjects. I offered him the knowledge he sought. I offered Tenchi the same knowledge. One of the side effects for any mind that wields the Lighthawk Wings is reorientation, and the brain must physically adapt to process the Power. But the Lighthawk Wings are not the final goal; they are merely secondary instruments."

"Secondary instruments?" Washu said slowly. "Ah: metaphorically speaking, you need tongs to hold the tool that is being forged."

"Yes," Tsunami replied. "The observer sees only the outward manifestation, and perceives the Lighthawk Wings as the ultimate goal, when the true goal is the alteration of the mind."

"What is the nature of this alteration?"

"Expanded perception. Enhanced manipulation. Few minds are capable of such stretching, and few hearts are compassionate enough to accept the responsibilities. Tenchi was genetically suitable for it, but it is his personality that truly made it possible. He is a very rare and unique person."

"He sure is," Ryoko said quietly.

"I remember the stories about Emperor Ashisato," Ayeka said. "He was said to be a tremendous adept. In fact, it was he who first named the Lighthawk Wings."

"Do you know what inspired the name?" Washu asked.

"Yes. The Lighthawk is a Juraian butterfly."

############

Washu found him standing on the edge of the cliff, sake bottle in hand, leaning over and looking at the rocks far below. "What are you doing here, Tenchi?" she asked.

"Contemplating my future," he answered. He swished the alcohol around in the bottle before leaning back to drain a big gulp. It dribbled down his chin as his Adam's apple bobbed. "That's close enough, by the way."

She stopped. She had been walking slowly towards him, hands held loosely at her side. She cursed silently, but kept her face impassive.

"And if I see that keyboard of yours appear, then this conversation will end very abruptly."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Let's just say it's the most direct solution to a difficult situation."

"I don't understand."

"I've lost my identity, you see. I no longer fit in any more; not at home, not at school, not...anywhere. I don't know about where you come from, but on this world — at least these islands — the male initiates the courtship, and the male does his level best to protect and support his family. So let's see: you ladies have been aggressively chasing me since Day One, so I lost that role. And any one of you ladies could incinerate me without any effort, so there goes my role as protector. And you're all either very rich or very powerful or both, so I'm locked out of the breadwinner role, too. You've emasculated me (I think that's the word). I've always wondered what you ladies saw in me, but I think I understand now: strong women prefer weak men (you know, opposites attract, and all that). With all the attention I get, I must be a real weakling. Anyway, you've put me in a dress and turned my world upside down."

"You know, if you really feel that way, just say the word and we'll all leave."

"You'll be leaving anyway, whether I say the word or not." He took another long draught from the bottle.

Washu noticed how flushed he was getting. "You want to explain that?"

"Simple mathematics, Professor. You and Ryoko are immortal. Ayeka and Washu and Mihoshi can expect to live several centuries at least. Me, I'll be worm food in about 60 years, and worn-out long before that. Sixty years is just a drop in the bucket for you galactics...barely a one-night stand. So, it doesn't matter when you leave, the result is the same."

"Really, Tenchi — "

"You know, maybe that's why your ex-husband left you when he did. He wasn't selfish or spineless, maybe it just dawned on him that both he and your son would grow old and die and you wouldn't age a day. Maybe he didn't want to feel your pity, or for you to feel his envy. It wasn't cowardice, it was compassion."

Washu was speechless. Through so many years of bitterness and despair, she had never considered that angle before. She stared at Tenchi open-mouthed.

Tenchi drained the last of the sake, and shook the bottle upside down, watching the spittle arc earthwards. "Good to the last drop," he muttered. He looked over the edge of the cliff again, lost in his own thoughts. He finally realized Washu was staring at him, and smirked at her. "You know, in all the months you ladies have fought over me, embarrassed me, and harassed me, not once have you ever asked what **I** want. It's always been about what each of **you** want."

Washu found her voice. "And just what do you want?"

"A friend," he answered. "Someone to talk to, to share secrets with, to bitch to when life takes a dump on me. I've never really had anyone like that. Dad is always gone, or just plain distracted; Grandpa talks in riddles and keeps his distance; and the guys at school wouldn't believe any of the stuff that happens to me. Who do I have to confide in?"

"You could talk to any of us. We'd listen."

"Yeah, right, while you're groping my crotch. You're all as obsessed with sex as my father."

"You would be, too, if you'd ever tried it." It just slipped out, and she slapped her hand over her mouth hoping to prevent any more blunders.

Tenchi just sneered at her. "Good old Washu, predictable as always." He grasped the long neck of the upended bottle like a sword, and began walking slowly though a _kata_.

Washu noticed that, half-drunk as he was, he still moved fluently and gracefully. She took a deep breath before asking, "What are you going to do now, Tenchi?"

"Observe one of the local customs."

"Which custom?"

He answered with a word she didn't recognize, even among the list of Japanese slang terms she was familiar with.

"I don't know that one."

"Look it up."

"I can't — I need my keyboard, and you won't let me raise it."

"Oh, go ahead," he sighed, finishing one _kata_ and starting another. He moved perilously close to the edge a couple of times, causing Washu to hold her breath, but he slid through the movements either unaware or unconcerned by the danger. Both possibilities frightened her.

She raised the keyboard and connected to the Internet, running a scan on the term he'd provided. She also started a program to open a dimensional door directly beneath the cliff, one which would ferry him safely back to her lab — assuming she got it positioned directly in his path. She'd only get one shot at it. Her search program signaled its completion, and when she looked at the entry the blood drained from her face.

"Tenchi, you can't seriously be considering this," she said.

"Oh, yes I can," he replied.

"Why?"

"Why not? Choosing the circumstances of one's demise is a very time-honored tradition on these islands. The numbers have been growing among my age group for the last few decades, ever since rock star Yukiko Okada threw herself off a roof, and it really doesn't cause much notice anymore...except to the immediate family, of course." His speech was starting to slur as the sake worked on his system. "And my immediate family is so dysfunctional, they'll never notice."

"Of course they'll notice," she replied. "We'll all notice, Tenchi. We love you."

"Yeah, right."

"Is this your way of punishing us?"

"No, I'm not punishing you. I'm not educating you, either. Just think of it as removing a leash." He staggered as he stepped away from her. "It's bad enough that I do care for all of you, but it hurts even more to know that it's never going to amount to anything. At least this way it's a clean break, for all of us." He turned and faced the cliff. "_Sayonara_, Little Washu."

"Tenchi, wait!" She frantically typed the commands that opened the doorway immediately below his position. But he had anticipated her, and he lurched unsteadily along the cliff edge. She tried desperately to reposition the opening, but he moved too quickly. She was so busy typing that she missed the moment he actually hurled himself over the edge. When she looked up to locate him, it was too late. He was gone.

She screamed, and kept screaming, thrashing about in anguish and horror — until she found herself sitting on her bed, half of the bedclothes pulled into fistfuls around her knees. Her heart was pounding and her breaths came in staccato bursts.

It had been a dream...a nightmare.

"Lights!" she whispered, and the ceiling lamps lit. Her bedroom was very sparsely furnished: the hoverbed, two hutches, and a dresser. No decorations and only a carpet for color. Though she normally relished her privacy, the room suddenly seemed very isolated.

Her nerves settled while she reviewed the nightmare. It was very disturbing, not only the things that Tenchi had said, but what he had done. None of it made any sense, since it was so out-of-character for him. Nonetheless, she shivered.

She decided that she didn't really want to be alone. And she missed Tenchi.

Washu pulled a robe out of one of the hutches, located her slippers, and passed through the door leading into her lab. She emerged a few moments later in the Masaki house, listening to the internal supports creaking and the wind caressing the windows. She wandered about the house, looking for everyone. Funaho had accepted Yosho's offer to sleep in the shrine's guest quarters, and so was not in the building. Nobuyuki could be heard snoring in his room, but all of girls' rooms were silent and empty. She finally found the missing occupants in Tenchi's room. Peering into the semi-gloom, she discerned three figures crammed onto Tenchi's bed: Ryoko was snoring into the wall, Ayeka teetered half off the edge, and Sasami lay sandwiched between them. Tenchi's spare futon was spread across the floor beside the bed, and Mihoshi was sprawled across it like a loose-jointed swastika.

Washu's first thought was that poor Tenchi would have to fumigate his room before he could sleep in it again. But her cynicism softened a bit as she studied her future 'sisters' — they missed Tenchi, too, and had gravitated here because this room smelled and felt like him. It wasn't even hard to imagine him sitting at his desk, struggling with his homework.

Washu sighed, succumbing to her emotions. She closed the door, climbed onto the futon, and prodded Mihoshi off to one side. She heard a soft _thump_ and a sleepy "Miya" as Ryo-ohki rolled off the bed, and a moment later the cabbit clambered onto the futon and under the covers beside her.

Washu had to admit, she did feel better in here.

**ACT 3 - MONDAY**

Yosho sat at his desk in the shrine office, addressing the endless list of documents and correspondence that seemed to come with his position. You would think a priest would spend his time sitting and meditating on the higher aspirations of life. Such was not the case, however. He shook his head ruefully. There was a knock on his office door, which surprised him — it was still snowing outside. Who would bundle-up just to visit his office in this weather? "Come in."

Ayeka entered and closed the door behind her, brushing snow off of her cloak and shedding her boots. Yosho admired her graceful movements, and watched silently as she made herself comfortable.

She studied her half-brother discreetly. He had not restored his facade, and his youthful face was slightly tilted to the side. His arms were folded, patiently waiting for her. She seated herself in the guest chair.

"What do you need, Little Sister, that would bring you out in such miserable weather?"

"I wanted to talk to you privately," she replied.

Yosho turned to the ever-present teapot, placing two cups on the table and filling them slowly. "It must be about something very important."

"It is important — to me." She accepted the cup and warmed her hands around it. "What was she like, Yosho?"

"You mean Itsuki?"

Ayeka nodded, sipping her tea.

Yosho had been expecting this conversation, sooner or later. He rose quietly and entered his quarters, returning moments later with two framed photographs, which he handed to her. He settled back into his chair while she examined the photos. Though both were formal portraits, they were taken worlds apart — literally. The first was of a very young Yosho, looking tall and proud in his Galaxy Academy uniform. Next to him sat an apple-cheeked beauty with deep dimples, almond-shaped eyes, and short emerald hair that partially obscured the right side of her face. Where Yosho managed to convey an austere dignity, she gave the image of restrained mirth. Her eyes twinkled, and the corners of her lips rose ever so slightly. They sat very close together. The figures in the second portrait resembled the first in placement and position, but here they wore traditional Japanese garments, and the woman's hair color had become a lustrous black — like Yosho's. The date in the corner identified the photo as being taken in the 1950's. "I don't understand, Brother."

"On Earth, her name was Itsuki. She is not dead, though she no longer lives here. We met at the Galaxy Academy, 700 years ago. Her name was Airi Magma."

Ayeka's heart was in her throat. "So this is Airi. She's ...lovely."

"Yes, she is. She likes to cook, and sing, and play practical jokes on people. She is much like Sasami." He placed both photos on the table, adjusting them for convenient viewing.

"I...didn't realize...she was Tenchi's grandmother."

"She found me here just after World War II. She had been searching for as long as you had."

"She found you first." Ayeka whispered, considered the implications.

"Yes. We had much to discuss; much had changed over the centuries."

"Yet you still loved her."

"Yes, and she still loved me."

"And Achika?"

"The daughter of Katsuhito and Itsuki Masaki."

"She didn't stay."

"No, she returned to her post at the Galaxy Academy after Achika's death, once more Airi Magma."

"Why didn't she reveal your location? Many of us were still concerned...?"

"Because I asked her not to. Because Ryoko had not yet been freed from her cave."

"Did Itsuki...Airi...know about **us**?" Ayeka asked, watching his eyes.

"Yes."

"Didn't it concern her — or you — that you broke our betrothal bond?"

"Yes, of course. We were prepared for the consequences, even after our daughter Minaho was born. In the end, it became a moot point."

Ayeka was silent for a while, lost in thought. Yosho refilled their cups while waiting for her response. Finally, she said, "You must miss her very much."

"As much as you would miss Tenchi, if he fails to emerge from his cocoon."

"Do you still feel he should not sit on the throne?"

Yosho shrugged. "He is very compassionate, very honorable, and very brave. But politics has a way of sullying a person's character, of corrupting their morals. With his high ideals, I'm afraid he could be very vulnerable to the darker elements. He lacks your trained instincts and skeptical demeanor."

Ayeka raised one eyebrow. "I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult."

"It was an observation," Yosho replied. "A personal assessment. Perhaps with you there to advise him — "

"I would have been your advisor, too," she interrupted softly.

Yosho looked at her sadly. "We were never in love, Little Sister."

"I was."

"But I wasn't. Our marriage was arranged, based upon politics rather than sentiment. We could not have worked together."

"I was happy with the arrangement."

"We have discussed this before, Ayeka. We both know that a power struggle would have erupted eventually. What is really troubling you?"

She studied her tea for a moment, hoping to discover strength or inspiration. "I feel that a great karmic wheel is about to roll over me again; that both times I have fallen in love it was with a man who would inherit the throne, who didn't want it, and then who was taken from me mere months before our wedding. I feel cursed."

"It is an interesting coincidence," Yosho agreed, "but nothing more. I don't believe you carry any curse."

"I wish I could be as certain," she replied, looking out the window towards the lake.

############

Washu found Ryoko sitting on the sofa, staring vacantly at the television. "What's on?"

"I dunno," Ryoko replied absently. "I really wasn't paying attention."

"Well, if you aren't busy, this would be a good time to continue looking for your trousseau." Washu ported her dimensional keyboard over to the sofa and sat beside her daughter. She placed Tenchi's monitor program into background and cleared the display. Fingers dancing across the keyboard, she tapped into the Internet and navigated to one of the search engines.

"I'm not really in the mood, Washu."

"I know, Ryoko. But it will help to take your mind off of Tenchi for a while, especially for something he's going to appreciate. Your wedding is the first one, and it might take me a while to assemble the components."

"Oh, alright." Ryoko shifted across the sofa to sit beside Washu, for a better view of the displays.

"Did you decide on any particular style? You were thinking about traditional Japanese the last time we talked, but you also saw a couple of French designs that caught your eye."

What followed was a dispirited examination of designer websites and bridal registries. During the previous conversation on this topic, Ryoko had been highly animated and repeatedly dragged Tenchi over to the terminal to look at successive images; now, her heart simply wasn't in it. But Washu persisted, knowing this distraction would ease her daughter's worries (and her own, if truth be told). Finally, though, it simply ran out of steam.

"I'm sorry, Mom, but I just can't focus on this now. I know you're just trying to help, and I really appreciate the effort. But let's do this later, ok?"

############

Washu nodded and sent the keyboard back into the corner. On one hand, she was disappointed that they had accomplished so little. On the other hand, Ryoko had called her 'Mom' and meant it — and that in itself was worth the effort.

Mihoshi and Funaho were in the kitchen, preparing ingredients for lunch under Sasami's watchful eye, and exchanging frequent grins. It was probably the brightest spot in the house, and for a while no one mentioned Tenchi or glanced towards the dock. Funaho and Sasami had actually done this many times before, but there had been such a long interruption that Funaho was feeling out of practice. Mihoshi had more recent experience, and she discovered that she and Funaho worked very efficiently together. They were enjoying themselves.

"Funaho, are you going to stay here for the weddings?" asked Sasami. She was watching a large kettle, and was determined not to let it boil over.

"I really don't know, Sasami. I would like to, but there is much I should be doing at home. I hadn't intended to be gone for more than a few weeks." She stacked the vegetables she had been cutting into neat piles, reaching for more.

"Well, the first one is only four weeks away — and it takes over a week just to travel one way to Jurai. You'd just have time to get there, and then you'd have to turn around and come right back. Mihoshi, would you check on the rice for me? Thanks. It would be easier if you just stayed."

"Well, I'm already imposing on your limited space..."

"I can always go sleep in my ship, Lady Funaho, if space gets that tight."

"I can always go sleep in my ship, too, if it comes to that."

"In your shuttle?" Sasami asked.

"No, my tree ship is in orbit. There's room enough aboard for everyone. Are there any more carrots over there, Mihoshi?"

"There were a moment ago." There was a faint "Miya!" from the doorway, and the sound of scampering feet.

"Oh, that Ryo-ohki!" Sasami scowled, looking around for the cabbit. "I should've known better than to leave any sitting out. Mihoshi, there might be some in the refrigerator, on the bottom shelf."

Mihoshi giggled, and went to look.

Sasami sighed with exasperation. "Some days..." She was stirring the kettle again, when a thought occurred to her. "Funaho, if your ship is so big, we could all travel aboard it to Mihoshi's wedding, and then on to Jurai!"

"Well, yes, it is possible. I think I could squeeze her ship onto my hanger deck. Thank you," she said to Mihoshi, who was handing her more carrots.

"For that matter," Mihoshi said, "I could stay on board Yukinojo and just escort your tree-ship, if there wasn't enough cabin space. Regulations would permit that. How finely do you want these cucumbers cut, Sasami?"

"About the size of a coin. Are Father and Mother coming to any of the weddings?"

The smile faded from Funaho's face, and her shoulders slumped slightly. She put the knife down, wiped her hands on her apron, and turned slowly towards Sasami. Mihoshi stopped cutting to observe. "No, Sasami, they aren't."

"Why not?"

"Misaki can't come become she has to attend to her duties." Sasami's mother was head of the Imperial Bodyguard, which necessitated staying full time near the Imperial Body. "And Lord Azusa won't come because he doesn't like Tenchi."

Sasami stopped stirring the kettle, looking at her half-mother with a wide-eyed, hurt expression. "But why? Tenchi is his great-grandson, and these girls are so nice..."

"I know, Sasami, I know. Your father doesn't like Tenchi because Yosho broke tradition. It only got more difficult when Achika married Nobuyuki. And Tenchi made it even worse when he declared his intention to marry all of you. There has been no dishonor, but your father has lost face. And it really hasn't helped any that Tenchi can summon the Lighthawk Wings."

"But why should that matter?"

"Because Lord Azusa cannot. For many generations, it has been the tradition for young princes to challenge their fathers for the right to rule. When the reigning monarch can no longer defend his throne, then it is time for him to step down. That is how your father became emperor."

"You mean, Jurai's monarchs don't rule for life?" asked Mihoshi.

Funaho shook her head. "No. That is the case with some of our neighbors, but not in Jurai. And the fact of the matter is, Tenchi is strong enough right now to claim the throne. Lord Azusa doesn't stand a chance, and he knows it. He's jealous, and nervous, and he's having to deal with some unruly barons who think this might be an ideal time to stir up some trouble." Funaho smiled, and said, "Speaking of stirring, Sasami, you should attend to your kettle."

Sasami did so, but she had lost much of enthusiasm.

"What about Ayeka's wedding? It will be held on Jurai. Will they even come to my sister's wedding?"

"I hope so," said Funaho.

**ACT 4 - TUESDAY**

Ayeka still couldn't decide if she was cursed.

The storm had blown itself out, leaving several inches of fresh snow that sparkled in the early morning sunshine. The sky was an achingly beautiful blue, the breezes were gentle, and the Masaki household was infected with cabin fever. Ayeka was one of the first to bundle up and trudge down to the dock. Her footprints crunched amidst the trampled residue of previous visitors, and the reflected glare from Tenchi's cocoon was blindingly bright. No snow clung to its surface, and it still felt warm to the touch. She hoped this was a good sign.

She was reluctant to return to the house, and her feet automatically turned towards her private refuge — her half-brother's Royal Tree, Funaho (christened thus to honor his mother). She struggled through the drifts, leaving churned snow and intermittent breath-clouds in her wake. Funaho's pond was frozen hard enough to support her weight, but prudence and habit confined her route to the stones connecting to the center isle. She brushed snow off of her favorite root, redistributed her cloak, and settled herself into a comfortable position.

Funaho recognized her, emitting a friendly trill and a few beams of coherent light from the leafless canopy above her. Ayeka smiled warmly, and patted the root in greeting. "Good Morning, Funaho, I trust you are feeling well today?" The sounds and lights modulated slightly, and then faded. Ayeka sensed the great presence around her, now in a semi-dormant state. "Sleep well, good friend, I will try not to disturb you."

Ayeka's smile melted as she considered the earlier question. She didn't feel cursed, but fate had a way of dealing her some cruel ironies. She had stumbled upon this world while searching for her half-brother, to whom she had been happily betrothed for many years. During her long sleep in stasis, he had met and married another woman, sired a daughter, who had in turn married and sired a son of her own. Ayeka faced a very rude awakening when she finally found Yosho; she had been devastated. But, oh that grandson! Her heart quickened just thinking about Tenchi, and their many quiet moments spent sitting on this very spot. The cruelest irony could well be facing her in the next few days: that she was doomed to repeat a cycle of heartbreak.

Another whim of fate: after Yosho's disappearance, she had become first in line for the throne. She very much liked that idea. She greatly enjoyed being addressed as the First Crown Princess. She had assiduously studied not only her father's techniques and machinations, but those of the successful monarchs before him. How very ironic, then, that her successful effort to find Yosho alive and well had resulted in her demotion. There had been a moment of hope, when Yosho acknowledged that he must remain on this world, but it faded with the realization that the title now fell upon his grandson. If she ever hoped to attain the throne, she must stand on Tenchi's corpse to reach it.

She sighed, feeling guilty for failing to remain objective, and even more guilty at the result of her analysis.

Yosho had been right: had he stayed, there would have been a power struggle — she would not have been content for very long to remain in his shadow. And yet, the thought of assuming the same role with Tenchi did not disturb her greatly. She could not explain the difference, and yet there clearly was one. She had stated publicly that if her beloved truly wanted the throne she would stand aside...and now it looked like fate was going to take her at her word. Well, so be it; Tenchi would need guidance, and solid advice, and who better to whisper those words in his ear than his own wife? Political pillow talk (the phrase brought a smile to her face) was a very old custom, indeed. Tenchi's greatest strengths were as a negotiator and consensus-builder, and his reign was liable to be very prosperous and peaceful. She liked the idea that history would record their rule as a beneficent one.

Assuming he survived his present predicament, she corrected herself morosely.

She watched the wind nudge the barren branches of the trees across the lake, sending clumps of soft white snow tumbling to the ground. It seemed a good analogy of her own life: innocent dreams unbalanced by the winds of chance and left to hurtle into oblivion. Her childhood fantasies had focused on handsome princes and daring rescues and royal weddings — so far, she had accomplished two out of three. But she should also consider her options if that third dream never materialized. She only had one option, really: assume the throne herself (if Yosho's sole heir died, then the line of succession moved to Misaki's descendents).

Suddenly, the thought of being crowned Empress lost much of its luster.

############

Ryoko sat on the snowy rocks outside her cave and shivered. It wasn't the temperature that chilled her, since the biofield that encircled her (capable of shifting from her black battledress to her favorite teal housecoat to her environmental vacuum shield — and even a tail when the mood suited her) had swathed her in a thermal jumpsuit. No, the chill she felt was caused by the ache in her soul that no amount of insulation could protect against.

Deep in this mountain lay the cavern, and within it the pool, that had imprisoned her for seven hundred years. Yosho had placed her there, rather than killing her outright, sealed in the cold and dark and virtually forgotten about. During those centuries of isolation, when her astral body could disengage for short times and distances, she had wandered across this mountainside and watched the inhabitants. She had observed them out of curiosity, learning their language out of boredom, and brooded away the years. She had been harboring her energies, slowly growing another power gem. It would be fragile, of course, and modest in capabilities, but it would be sufficient to assist her escape and perhaps even settle an old score.

The gem was nearly complete, and her scheming had reached a fever pitch, when **he** came into her life.

Just an infant strapped to his mother's back, escorted later by his grandmother, he looked upon her astral form without blinking or cringing. There had been no judgment in those eyes, and no fear, either. And as his awareness altered with age, from visual sight to mental linkage, he kept returning to this cave. To be alone with his thoughts and dreams and triumphs and tragedies. And as she watched him, the bitterness in her life began to ebb, and she found other emotions creeping into her heart to fill the void. Her plans began to change.

And when he freed her, she was awash in emotions. He released her in ignorance, and had unknowingly injured her with the Tenchi-ken, and had fled in fear from her desiccated appearance. She was angry, and hurt, and confused, and inexperienced, and responded the only way she knew how. And even that failed her: the semi-sentient Tenchi-ken retained its memories (along with her true gems), and not only recognized his DNA but the subconscious responses of an experienced fencer: she'd lost the fight and her gem as well. And in the aftermath, as she waited with baited breath to see what he would do, he actually bowed and apologized for the pain he'd inflicted. His eyes contained no deception, no arrogance, only sorrow for what he'd done. No one had ever treated her like that before. Looking back, that had been the pivotal moment, the turning point, when she'd fallen in love with him.

And now that man was trapped in a sphere of his own creation.

And she was powerless to help.

And she had to wonder, what would become of her if he failed his task? What if he...died?

Not only had the statute of limitations expired on her crimes, but Lady Funaho said she had been publicly forgiven for her sins. She could walk down any street of any town on any planet in the Juraian Empire with complete freedom. The thought actually frightened her — she'd always been viewed with suspicion and fear, and treated accordingly. The only real security she had ever known, where she had felt welcomed and accepted, was right here. This place had become her home. And her family. And her mind recoiled at the thought of losing them.

Of losing **him**.

############

Mihoshi climbed through the woods and snowdrifts until she emerged into the meadow. She was panting, and vowed to ease back on Sasami's cooking and exercise a little more often. She wasn't worried about her figure so much as she was her readiness. The Galaxy Police performed routine physicals, and anyone not maintaining established norms would get reassigned to a desk job. She wanted to remain on active patrol.

At least, in the past she had wanted to remain on active patrol. Until Lady Funaho had hinted that such long absences could put a strain on her upcoming marriage. How could she and Tenchi build a solid relationship when she would be gone for weeks or months at a time? Would his feelings for her change? Would her feelings for him change? Even though she loved the GP, she loved Tenchi more, and would resign if her career got in the way. She may be scatterbrained, but she wasn't stupid — she could see and set priorities just as well as anyone else.

She stood at the treeline and looked up the hill, where her ship hovered silently beneath its masking shield. From beneath the cloak she could plainly see Yukinojo and the shadow it cast, but from above the sleek GP patrol vessel was invisible. Yukinojo's architects had placed a large ventral fin in back near the engines, committing the ship to water docking and obviating the need for landing gear. Fortunately, the energy required to keep her ship levitated was minimal. Yukinojo recognized her and lowered the gangway from the rear airlock. Huffing and puffing, she entered her ship. The artificial intelligence greeted her perfunctorily, informing her that it had monitored no other traffic into this system other than Lady Funaho's tree-ship, which was parked above them in a synchronous orbit, hiding from the locals behind a cloaking field of its own. And Yukinojo had received no communications from the sector GP office. If the AI had been programmed with anything more than rudimentary emotions, it would have expressed profound boredom.

Mihoshi made her way to the bridge, shed her coat, and draped it over the navigation console. She checked the logs to verify that everything was normal, and then dropped into the pilot's seat. She opened her private computer directories and searched until she located the graphics file she wanted. With a few keystrokes, she displayed on the master monitor the image she had sent to her parents recently. It was a photograph of her and Tenchi taken last autumn by his father. They had been sitting on the front steps, talking quietly, when Nobuyuki had caught them by surprise. It was her favorite picture, and she had a hard copy printed and mounted down in her cabin.

Her parents had been delighted when she'd told them about the young man she'd fallen in love with, and astounded when she told them his identity. She had sworn them to secrecy, at least for a while, and was pretty sure that they had kept the news to themselves; but knowing her mother, Mitoto had probably already started making plans for the wedding. She had so wanted to introduce Tenchi to them, as well as her brother, Misao, and his wife, Mashisu.

She stared at the monitor for a long time, gnawing on her lip. She was worried about him. She didn't really understand what was going on, but nobody else seemed to, either — and that's what scared her the most.

"Yukinojo?"

"Yes, Mihoshi?"

"Can you scan that energy bubble down on the dock?"

"Yes, Mihoshi. It is composed of a high-frequency energy field. It appears to be a containment structure, rather than a defensive shield. I have identified the sole occupant as Tenchi Masaki. He is in a reduced metabolic state, but otherwise unaffected. Logically, he is the source of the energy field, but I cannot locate any evidence of a portable generator or broadcasting device."

"Can you locate any similar instances in your memory?"

The AI was silent for a moment, scanning its extensive record system, before responding. "No, Mihoshi. There are no corresponding entries in the registry. However, I must remind you that the majority of my archival space is devoted to criminal profiles, rather than scientific or medical documentation."

She sighed. There would be no easy answers. Down in the house, the concern for Tenchi's safety was palpable. There was a genuine (if unspoken) fear that he might not emerge alive from that bubble. And she had to face the fact that he might be gone from her life forever. Her career would absorb her grief, of course, just as it had when Kiyone disappeared. Just one more scar on her heart, and probably another mark on her service record — somehow, it would be her fault. As usual.

Maybe she really was jinxed.

############

Washu retreated to her lab. There was a special place she reserved for just such moments, when she faced an overwhelming problem or the all-too-frequent need to be alone. She went to her observatory

The room was small, just big enough to contain a desk, a chair, a computer terminal, and a wall-mounted video display. The desktop contained a collection of 2-D and 3-D photographs of her daughter on one side, and only three items on the other:

(1) A 3-D snapshot excised from a sensor log during last year's hypnosis experiment, showing Tenchi just after summoning the Lighthawk Wings. The photo brought a lump to her throat every time she looked at it.  
(2) A framed photograph of Tenchi in the fields, taken by his father. Tenchi was leaning on his hoe, wiping sweat from his brow and talking to Ryo-ohki. This photo brought a lump to her throat, too, but for a different reason.  
(3) A stuffed toy guinea pig, given to her by Tenchi at Christmas. Her most prized possession.

The monitor was plugged-in to the subspace communication networks transmitting across half a dozen interstellar empires, including Jurai. She could look at real-time broadcasts from hundreds of planets, space stations, trade routes, and even research installations. Today, it was focused on the dock just ten meters from the Masaki's front door. Telemetry data was superimposed over the glowing sphere, telling her that nothing had changed in two days.

In this room she could laugh mirthlessly, scream obscenities, and weep in frustration, safe from prying eyes. And in the past hour, she had done all three.

She felt helpless, which she absolutely despised.

Though her eyes were focused on the screen, her mind was focused on her memories. She had been hurt so badly in the past, once by a faithless husband and once by an invidious assistant, that she tended to dismiss most men as villainous or untrustworthy or incompetent or self-absorbed. Supplementary research (i.e., occasional affairs) between the two events had only confirmed her opinion that decent men were as rare as supernovae. So she had sworn off them. Probably forever.

Until the young supernova in the photographs had rescued her from captivity.

Suddenly, old feelings had re-emerged, and old dreams had come visiting in the night. The shock of reuniting with her daughter was nothing compared to the impact Tenchi had made on her. The mighty Washu had fallen in love...and she was just flat-out giddy, an embarrassing reaction easily disguised by her eccentric behavior. She caressed the brooch she had worn for four days, trying to draw more comfort out of it. But the magic charm could not hide the fact that Tenchi may not survive his present circumstances. Fate had snatched happiness from her grasp twice before, and fate could do it again now.

Her computers had sifted through the history of the Juraian Royal Family, looking for similar such incidents over the lifetime of the dynasty. Tsunami had been right: there were detailed accounts of the four monarchs who had successfully deployed the Lighthawk Wings. Those rulers had been prodigious adepts, and just as able peacemakers. Each had overseen a golden age of sorts. There were also disturbing references to other family members who had attempted the transformation — and then had disappeared abruptly from the public records. Next she had attempted to correlate the psychological profiles of the survivors with Tenchi's profile, but had failed due to insufficient data. She was, to put it simply, flying blind.

She sat for a while staring at the screen, aroused only by motion captured by the camera. Lady Funaho and Sasami were walking down to the dock, placing their hands upon the cocoon, their mouths moving soundlessly. Washu could have turned up the gain on the microphone, but chose instead not to eavesdrop. This group of characters had become her family. Her **extended** family, she corrected; she wanted to start her own family with Tenchi.

She hoped desperately that she'd get the chance.

############

Sasami ran her hand along the cocoon, feeling its warmth and squinting against its internal radiance. It pulsed slowly, in rhythm with Tenchi's heartbeat, just like the Lighthawk Wings did. She had expected the surface to be smooth, but it had a grainy, pebble-like texture. It made her think of a giant egg, which lessened its ominous appearance somehow.

Of all the people in the house, she was the least concerned. Not only could she still feel him through their link, but she had suffered no precognitive dreams about this event. Not one. Tsunami had made several appearances since Funaho had arrived, but she hadn't seemed overly anxious about Tenchi's confinement. Sasami had a hunch that Tsunami was in contact with him, but just not revealing it. She shrugged; let Tsunami keep her secrets for now — Sasami would learn them eventually.

She looked over at her half-mother. Funaho was definitely worried about her great-grandson. Sasami was aware of some of the controversy surrounding Yosho, and Funaho's deep disappointment that Yosho could not (or would not) follow their father onto the throne. She had asked Ayeka about it a couple of times, but her sister had always dodged the question, as though Sasami was incapable of understanding the answer. Funaho was more willing to discuss such topics. And she generally did a better job of it. Even Sasami could see that Funaho had high hopes for Tenchi; well, they all did.

Funaho had arrived at their doorstep expecting everyone to be ready to leave with her; their reluctance, and then this cocoon business, put quite a crimp in her plans. Sasami liked having Funaho around, and hoped that she would stay for the weddings. Sasami had been talking with Ryoko and Washu about what kind of wedding cakes they wanted, and refreshments and special meals. She was looking forward to these challenges, and had been told she could get any ingredients and assistance she wanted. And she fully intended to take them up on it.

Sasami picked up a clump of snow and smeared it onto the cocoon. The snow sizzled off like a frying egg. She repeated the process several times, just because she liked to watch it. Her attention drifted over to the lake, where Funaho's shuttle lay semi-submerged in the steamy waters. Its engines were keeping the center of the lake warm, but she could see ice forming along the banks. Funaho was looking at the shuttle, also, contemplating something. She must have decided to wait, because she turned back towards the house.

Sasami joined Funaho; while it was tense in the house, it was cold outside, and there was no visible change to the cocoon. Washu would let them know if anything changed, and Sasami had to think about starting lunch soon.

She sent a message down the link to Tenchi, wishing him well. There was no answer, only mental static.

**ACT 5 – WEDNESDAY**

Tenchi drifted back to consciousness. He was instantly aware that something was not right. For starters, he was **floating**, a condition he had encountered before, but usually in rather bizarre circumstances. He opened his eyes, and knew that he was right back in bizarre circumstances again. "Story of my life," he muttered — and then realized that he had been able to hear himself. The glowing bubble he occupied was quite warm, though the air was a bit stale. He estimated the sphere to be no more than three meters in diameter, and ambient light shone from every point on the wall. There were no strong shadows, but there was no glare, either. And there was no apparent way out.

He didn't panic, because he was remembering the events that had put him in this spot in the first place. He also became aware that he wasn't alone.

"How are you feeling, Tenchi?" Tsunami's voice seemed to rattle around inside the globe, and a moment later she shimmered into visibility.

"Well," Tenchi replied, rebounding slowly off the wall, "this is a rather tight space. I would get creeped out if I didn't know that I'd built this bubble."

"So you remember? That's good. Are you ready to begin your lessons?"

Tenchi nodded, aware that the motion started an unstable oscillation. Weightlessness wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

"Close your eyes and open your mind," Tsunami instructed. Again, these were actions Tenchi was quite familiar with. "The first thing we are going to do is show you how to shift your awareness."

"I'm lost already."

"Then let me explain," she said patiently. "Imagine a house with many windows, all looking upon a courtyard. The view from each window will be different, though the courtyard remains the same. Do you understand this?"

"Yes."

"It is possible to gather vastly different amounts of information from each window. I'm going to show you how to move from window to window, and to look upon the world with different types of awareness."

"Was I able to do this before?"

"Only partially, and then only in a restricted manner."

"But now I'm different." It was not a question.

"Now you are different. Now you are physically able to do this, and many other things as well."

And so it began. She showed him what his own mind looked like: an amorphous fog that extended well beyond his body, without any discernible edges, lit from within by many pulsating patterns of lights. The fog seethed with complicated eddies and currents, which reminded him of photographs taken of the planet Jupiter. He might have been satisfied just to watch himself for a while, but Tsunami urged him to expand his perception beyond himself, and beyond the bubble. At first, he saw the many little minds in the waters of the lake beneath the dock, appearing as moving pinpoints of lights, like candles or lanterns swaying to unseen breezes. Looking further outward, he could perceive the minds of the creatures in the woods around the lake, each looking like a fog-enshrouded streetlight on a rainy night, made small and diffuse by distance. He gasped aloud when he saw the much larger minds of those humans in the house nearby, each a constellation of glittering lights embedded in a turbulent nebula.

And then Tsunami revealed her true form, and Tenchi very nearly passed-out in fright.

Tsunami was an enormous mind, whose size and scope rivaled the thunderclouds that sailed majestically over his homeland. He had known all along that she was a powerful being, but he simply had no concept of just how vast and ancient she really was. The word 'Tsunami' in Japanese means 'Divine Storm', and he knew without a doubt that her chosen name was extremely appropriate. She waited silently for him to adjust, to comprehend — and then to grow curious about the wisps of fog that extended not only into his bubble, but into the Masaki house. The former was obvious, and he soon found a way to trace the latter tendril to its terminus: it was solidly anchored in one of the minds, whose signature he recognized as Sasami. Tsunami's and Sasami's minds fused seamlessly. They were assimilated.

He looked again at the tendril that reached into his bubble, and realized that their minds melded together as well, though on a much smaller scale. What should have been scary, wasn't. It was comforting, in its own way. He could almost feel Tsunami sigh with relief. "I'm glad this doesn't frighten you, Tenchi."

"Well, it did at first. But this is way too cool to be frightening." She urged him to examine the minds of the humans in the house. Once he looked, he could see the filaments of thought that comprised the linkages he had forged with the galactics. They seemed so fragile, so tenuous, compared to Tsunami's links. He picked one of the links and followed it down to Ryoko. Her mind, like his own, seemed formless and unorganized. He sent a question back to Tsunami: "How do I communicate with something so...chaotic?"

"You are trying to place your own order on her mind. Ask instead how she views herself. You humans are so visually oriented that you must relate everything to images. Sometimes this can be very limiting."

So how does Ryoko view herself, he wondered. Almost as soon as he asked, the mindcloud shifted, condensing inward, and in moments he was looking at a familiar, though bare-naked, female who was curled into a fetal position. What he could see of her face seemed lined in pain and anguish. He had always seen her as strong and independent, but she saw herself as very insecure and vulnerable. Her life had been pretty miserable, all things considered. She could be brash and irritating, but she couldn't really help it — social skills are learned as children, not as adults, and she had never really had a childhood. That her inner core was still generous and compassionate was simply remarkable. He felt an overpowering urge to comfort her, so he placed a hand on her shoulder. It startled her, and she jerked her head up and around frantically. _Relax, Ryoko, it's just me. _She couldn't physically hear him of course, but his thoughts rippled down their link.

_Tenchi? Is that you? _Apparently, she couldn't see him; then he remembered that he was converting a foreign awareness into familiar visual analogies, and the face he was seeing was not a real face at all, just a useful construct.

_Yes, Ryoko,_ he replied. He placed his other hand on her other shoulder and squeezed gently, just as he had done often in the 'real' world. He began messaging her back, watching the muscles slowly unknot, feeling her shoulder blades moving in circles. He was surprised to see sparkles dancing around his fingers, and her skin glowed ever so subtly.

She purred. _Oh, Tenchi..._

He started to smile, until he noticed what looked like a gaping wound on her scalp. It looked raw and swollen with pus. He was confused for a moment, wondering where the hell she could have picked up such a cancerous-looking infection without his having observed it. He had to remind himself that it was another visual analogy, that this was not a physical wound in the normal sense. He intuited that he was looking at the festering injury that represented her memories of enslavement; memories that were still pestilent with grief and anger and guilt. Very gently, he placed his hands around the wound and began kneading it, forcing the bile out.

_Tenchi, what are you doing!_

_It's time to let go of that pain, Ryoko. Kagato is gone; you're with ME now._ As he continued to knead the wound it began to shrink, ever so slightly, and much of the inflammation faded. She relaxed visibly, and slowly started to uncurl. Full healing would require many such sessions, but he didn't think she'd mind.

He started to withdraw, and she panicked when she felt him disengage. _Wait! Don't leave me!_

_I'll never leave you._ He sent a wave of Power down their link, expanding it many times its previous size. She gasped with realization. And with delight.

And then he was alone once more. He felt Tsunami watching, approvingly.

He chose another link and followed it to Ayeka. How did Ayeka see herself? The mindcloud condensed down into her recognizable figure, clothed in regal finery, and bound tightly in chains. Tenchi was more than a little surprised; he'd gotten the impression that her months on Earth had been reasonably pleasant and free of Imperial responsibilities. Apparently, he'd misread her, and to some extent this would explain her often reclusive moods — she was ever mindful of the duties waiting for her back on Jurai. Tenchi touched one of the chains, and felt it loosen slightly. Ayeka stirred from her reverie. _Be calm, Ayeka, it's just me._ he sent to her.

_Tenchi? How...?_

_We have a link, remember? _He pulled on the chain and felt it come free. Before it faded from his hand, he instinctively recognized it as an obligation. He grasped another and tugged, but it held fast. He considered for a moment just why the first yielded, but not the second, and decided that the first had something to with him. Which meant that he could only ease some of the anxieties in her life. He began methodically tugging on all of her bindings, but was only able to remove three more. Ayeka became aware of her increasing freedom.

_Tenchi, what are you doing?_

_Let me share your burdens,_ he replied. He placed a hand on her face and watched a cloud of sparks swirl about his fingers. Her skin rapidly absorbed them, and she gasped in pleasure. He sent a Power surge down their link and watched it swell and thicken. Ayeka felt it, too, and giggled, a smile wrapped across her face.

Tenchi's awareness returned to the confines of his own mind. "Two down," he muttered, more to himself than the observing Tsunami. He chose another link, and found himself looking at Mihoshi's mind. Not surprisingly, Mihoshi wore her Galaxy Police uniform. The surprise was the dark cloud that encircled her head and shoulders. Tenchi extended a hand into the cloud, which felt clammy and cold. He identified it finally as a jinx, which she had convinced herself was all too real. He sent a power burst down his hand into the cloud, shattering it into hundreds of wormlike fragments that started to dissipate. She became instantly aware of the change. Tenchi grasped her shoulders, watching fireworks twinkle around his hands. Her eyes widened. _Mihoshi?_

_Tenchi?_

_ Yes, Mihoshi, it's me._

_I, I can sense you! Sort of..._

_I'm using our link, Mihoshi. Can you feel me now?_

_Oh, yes. Yes! This is what I wanted! But what did you just do?_

_ Banished your jinx. You're free._

She was characteristically Lucky, too, because her predictably exuberant reaction led her to the immediate discovery that **she** could embrace **him**. Their junction was wreathed in sparks and lights, and he felt an incredible tingle spreading through him. _Oh, Tenchi!_ She started to babble and gush, but was interrupted by the Power surge he sent down their link, expanding it. He disengaged quietly in her ensuing stupefaction, still reeling from the experience.

He was starting to feel fatigued. With a deep mental sigh, he grasped the next filament and followed it down to Washu. He was not really surprised to see her wearing the uniform of a student. Tenchi supposed it was probably the most stable time of her life, and thus was the reference point around which everything else revolved. He had always considered her behavior a tad eccentric (which sounded less harsh than 'loopy'), because she had spent so much time in isolation. That she had survived at all, against all the odds stacked against her, said much about the strength of her will and the power of her mind. That Ryoko shared many of these traits was no surprise, either. _Washu?_

_ Tenchi? Ah, then we have a link, too. Did you just visit Ryoko?_

_ Yes._

_ I was feeling some pretty strong emotions from her. That would explain it_

_ Were you expecting this?_

_ No, but it doesn't surprise me._

_ Well, maybe this will surprise you._ First, he sent a Power surge cascading down their link, enlarging it like the others. Then he placed his hands on her shoulders, and watched the sparks being absorbed into her skin.

She emitted a satisfying gasp._ Oh, my! We...we should discuss this further._

_We will,_ he said, retreating.

He paused, looking at the glowing strands-cum-cables that connected his mind to theirs. They seemed to sparkle with an inner fire of their own. He had a momentary image of reins, rather than chains, of eager steeds just waiting his commands. He laughed it off, knowing full well how his future wives would react to such a suggestion: he'd be lucky to escape with minor bruises.

Grasping the last slim filament, he followed it to Sasami. As with the others, at first all he saw was a mindcloud, but this one was different. There were layers to it, the outer fringes of which formed a smoky column leading back to Tsunami. When he made the conversion to a decipherable image, what he saw was disconcerting: Sasami was dressed in her everyday play clothes and an apron, smiling happily, but she was embedded within the ghostly image of Tsunami. Like crystal _matryushka_ nesting dolls. In fact, both Tsunami and Sasami were clearly watching him. _You can see me?_

_ Yes, of course! Why, couldn't the others see you? _Her reply had an odd echo to it, as if she and Tsunami were speaking together.

_No._

Sasami/Tsunami shrugged, accepting the fact with equanimity. _So, what now?_

_ This, for starters,_ he said, and sent a Power surge down their link.

Sasami/Tsunami blinked, but that was about it. _That's much better, Tenchi. Thank you._

He reached over (through Tsunami!) and grasped Sasami's hands. The now-familiar flow of sparks and lights that appeared around her small hands was repeated around Tsunami's ethereal limbs, and they shared an expression of delight.

Like Mihoshi, she reached forward and embraced him. Soft lightening jolted through his system, until he was released. _Oh, boy...!_

_ That's enough for now, I think. We'll talk later._ Tenchi withdrew and slid back along the link.

He was very tired now, and opened his eyes to look upon the inner surface of the globe. Tsunami's projection floated into his visual field, a satisfied smile on her face.

"That was very impressive for your first effort. I am so pleased, Tenchi."

Tenchi nodded his thanks, waiting for his feet to orient in the proper direction. He reasserted control over the Lighthawk Wings, and the globe promptly split along three seams. Cold air and gravity rushed in through the expanding cracks, and sunlight burst upon him in golden shafts. His feet crunched into the snow, and his normal weight returned with a sagging lurch. Each glowing wedge shrank back into its proper wing shape, and the wings returned to their basic "Y" configuration, hovering obediently before his chest. He dismissed them with a gesture, and they faded away.

############

They were all sitting around the breakfast table, picking at their food and glancing occasionally towards the incandescent sphere on the dock. Nobuyuki had just departed for the office, and the remaining occupants had resigned themselves to another day of waiting anxiously. The oppressive silence was suddenly shattered by startled gasps, clattering utensils, and spilled drinks, as one after another each galactic reacted to Tenchi's presence in her mind. And then it ceased as abruptly as it had started. Funaho and Yosho stared at the radiant faces of the ladies, and then at one another. They could tell that they had just been excluded from something, but they couldn't gauge the significance of it.

Sasami recovered the fastest, being the youngest and the most experienced in such matters. "Oh, wow — that was neat!"

"Was it real?" Ryoko whispered, receiving an affirmative nod from Ayeka.

There was a sudden shimmer in the air, and Tsunami's form materialized beside Sasami. Her face was wreathed with a triumphant smile. "He's ready," she announced. They all looked at one another, and then out the window — and then to the living room, where Washu's keyboard alarm was chiming discordantly. Washu hurried to see what had triggered the alarm. Everyone else was soon crowded around her.

"Well, what is it?" Ayeka asked.

"Tenchi's vital signs are returning to normal. His metabolic rate is accelerating, his brainwave activity is coming back down into standard parameters, and — " No one was listening. Everyone was clustered around the front window, rubbing the frost off the panes of glass. What they could see set them to cheering: the sphere was retracting, withdrawing back into its three-winged configuration — and then vanished completely. It left Tenchi standing on the snowy dock, staring absently out over the lake, the gentle breeze ruffling his hair and shaking his clothes. Clouds of steam hovered about him and dissipated on the wind.

Ryoko phased through the wall and blinked across the distance in a heartbeat. She grabbed him by the shoulders and looked into his eyes. They were clear, and his muscles felt relaxed and pliable. "Tenchi? Are you ok?"

He smiled. "Yeah, I think so." He looked into her bloodshot eyes and asked, "Are you ok?"

"I am now!" she sighed and wrapped her arms around him. Her Tenchi was back, and that's all that mattered. She was vaguely aware of footsteps, and then Ayeka's voice demanding that she move over. Ryoko shifted, nestling against his right ribs while Ayeka took her traditional spot on his left. Ayeka was speaking but Ryoko wasn't listening — her eyes were closed and she was focusing on his even, steady breathing. She didn't open her eyes again until she heard rapid footsteps, and then she barely had time to brace herself before Sasami barreled into them, clutching Tenchi's waist and burying her face in his chest. Seconds later Mihoshi joined them, slipping her arms through whatever gaps she could find, and snuggling tightly against his back.

They stood that way for several moments, until Washu, Funaho, and Yosho came walking down the dock, snow crunching lightly beneath their feet.

"It doesn't appear there's any room for you, Washu," Funaho said.

"That's ok, I can wait for my turn."

"Aren't you cold, Tenchi?" Yosho asked.

"Not now," he replied, indicating the thermal blanket draped around him, which giggled in four different voices.

"How do you feel?" Funaho asked.

"Well, I'm awfully hungry, and I could use a hot bath, but otherwise I'm fine."

Tenchi's stomach emitted a thunderous growl, which caused Sasami to recoil from his chest. "I guess you **are** hungry. I'll go make you some hot food, Tenchi." And she ran laughing into the house.

"And I'll help you with that hot bath," Ryoko said, leering seductively.

Predictably, Ayeka answered before he could. "I think not! You aren't married yet, and the proper amenities will be observed!"

"Oh, stuff it, Little Princess. He needs some TLC, and I'm the most qualified person to provide it."

"Says who?"

"Says me!"

Tenchi groaned, from hunger and resignation. Some things would never change. But he smiled nonetheless.

############

Tenchi pushed himself away from the table. He was finally full. The others had been eating breakfast earlier, but not with much enthusiasm. They seemed to be taking a much more active interest in it now, since he was back in the house. He felt just a little self-conscious about their staring at him so much — he just wished they'd blink a bit more often. "That was worth waiting for, Sasami."

"I'm glad you liked it, Tenchi. Are you sure you don't want some more?"

"No, I'm stuffed. Now, about that bath..."

"Hold on a second, Tenchi," Washu interrupted. "Before you go getting all scrubbed, I'd like to run some scans on you. Think you can spare a few minutes down in my lab?"

Tenchi nodded, wondering how they could stand to be around him while he was so fragrant. No one seemed to mind, however. "When?"

"Right now, if you're ready."

"Sure." He climbed to his feet — followed by everyone else. "Uh, this could be rather boring. Are you all sure you want to tag along?"

"Are you kidding?" Ryoko answered, grabbing onto his arm. "We've been kept away from you for four days. That's four days too long. We aren't letting you out of our sight."

Ayeka latched onto his other arm before Mihoshi could grab it. "Please proceed, Washu."

So down they went into Washu's lab, back to the dark recesses where ominous machines populated the corners. Washu sat at her desk and engaged various monitors, summoning seats for her guests, and producing a box of sensors. She had him strip to his waist, and started attaching the sensors to various parts of his exposed torso, arms, and head. She had to smile to herself, because in spite of the attention he was going to receive upstairs, she got him first. And since the bulk of the weight he had put on in the last few months was muscle, she was enjoying these intimate preparations thoroughly. Once everything was properly secured, she kissed his cheek and returned to her console.

"What do I now?" He walked into the middle of the open area and started stretching and limbering-up.

"Just a minute," she answered, entering commands into the computers. "Just start moving around. Calisthenics or something."

"I have some suggestions," offered Ryoko sweetly. Tenchi gave her one of his pained looks, and she just giggled. Ayeka groaned.

"Actually," Yosho offered, "why not perform one or two _kata_?"

Tenchi liked that idea. The basic patterns were a good warm-up, and much more rewarding than simple exercises. "Did you bring a _bokken_ with you?"

"No. But you could use the Lighthawk Sword."

Tenchi nodded. Performing a _kata_ is much like moving meditation. The goals are predetermined, so the mind is not forced to concentrate on anything at all (and if it does need a focus, then it is free to examine foundation attributes like muscle movements and balance and proper technique and correct breathing). Within the flurry of movements is a calm center, like the eye of a hurricane, and a chance to build energy rather than expend it.

His awareness looked inward. He saw new pathways, felt Power conduits that had been expanded and reinforced. He had been afraid of the Lighthawk Wings before, and even more afraid of the sword, and now he could see that it had been the proper response: he had not been fully equipped to deal with such energies; he could have gotten badly hurt. But now, the landscape had changed. There were new capabilities, expanded possibilities, and he needed a new frame of reference, something familiar yet applicable. It didn't take long to find a usable analogy: if he had been a car, then his stock engine and drive train had just been replaced with high-performance racing equivalents. As he stood there, he mentally engaged the 'engine' and put himself in idle. He couldn't see his forehead, but the Emblem of Power flashed into visibility across his brow, pulsing rhythmically.

The first _kata_ began from a standing posture, and used the action of shifting the _bokken_ from the left hip to the right hand as a way to initiate movement and enter the proper mindset. Tenchi lacked the _bokken_, but he had a ready substitute available: he located and crystallized the quantum pattern for the Lighthawk Sword. A ball of blue-white light coalesced out of the surrounding air to fill his open his right hand. The glowing sphere extended along an axis parallel with his palm, forming a meter-long cylinder that then flowed outwards into the familiar shape of the sword. He studied the weapon for a moment, hefting its weight in his hands, savoring its balance. He had done this before, of course, but he had to marvel at the ease with which he did it now. No hesitation, no fear, and he was aware now of all of its properties, ready to serve in ways he never could have imagined.

He located his grandfather and bowed respectfully, mentally shifted into 'first gear,' and brandished the sword as he began the first _kenjutsu_ pattern. The Sword sparkled in his hands, as he directed Power into the weapon. It left a shimmering wake in the air behind it, and repeated passes of the blade painted the air with a curtain of light. After four days of inactivity, the play of muscle against sinew felt invigorating. He was so glad to be active again that he passed through the first _kata_ and into the second without pausing. And then into the third

He decided it was time to push the envelope, and mentally shifted into 'second gear.' The Emblem on his forehead and the weapon in his hands both flared with new energy, and he yielded to the desire to push himself, as well. He began moving faster, swinging harder, taking deeper breaths. He completed the fourth _kata_ and moved into the fifth, the sword singing through the air like a hunting siren. The aurora that encircled him thickened with repeated passes of the sword. And at prescribed intervals, one of his hands or feet would pierce the veil with a punch or a kick. The fifth _kata_ passed into the sixth, the patterns becoming increasingly more complicated and wide-ranging.

Tenchi shifted into 'third gear,' pushing himself faster and harder. His breathing was becoming labored, drops of sweat were being flung from his head and arms as he stalked the imaginary opponents of the seventh _kata_. The Sword writhed through the darkness like an incandescent snake, hissing and coiling and darting everywhere. As he started into the eighth _kata_, he toyed with the notion of shifting into 'fourth gear,' but decided that prudence should be observed with his first venture. He ended the ninth _kata_ with a flourish and an ear-splitting _kiai_. He bowed towards his teacher, chest pumping, skin flushed, drenched with sweat, and eyes blazing with _zanshin_.

None of his Companions moved. They just stared open-mouthed at him.

Tenchi shrugged, removed Washu's sensor pads, and headed for the exit and that hot bath. He was quietly relieved when no one followed him.

############

Lunch was more sedate than breakfast had been. Everyone still watched Tenchi eat, but there was more concern and less enthusiasm. This morning's chatter was absent. Now that he had bathed and changed clothes, he felt calmer. This time, he stared back.

Washu finally broke the silence. "I think now would be a good time to go over the results of this morning's examination."

"Go ahead," Tenchi said around a mouthful of food. "I'm all ears."

"More like all teeth," she corrected. They exchanged smiles. She summoned her terminal, and after a few keystrokes a large screen formed in the air above her. There was a rustle of bodies as the diners shifted to see the screen. "You haven't seen this yet, Tenchi, but the rest of us watched it first-hand. And I will say up front, it is quite impressive."

Tenchi's image appeared on the screen, stripped to the waist and peppered with sensors. He spent a few moments pacing and stretching, talking to someone off-camera. After a pause, he frowned in concentration and the Emblem of Power appeared on his forehead. Another short pause, and the Lighthawk Sword appeared in his right hand. He bowed towards a point off-camera, raised the sword into the ready posture, and proceeded into the _kata_. After several moments of chained techniques, there was a slight hesitation and then both the Emblem and the sword brightened visibly. Tenchi realized that this is how it must have looked when he 'shifted gears.' At this point Tenchi's movements became faster and harder to follow. The Sword's energy wake became noticeably more persistent. A moment later came another hesitation, and then the Emblem and the sword flared even brighter. His movements were now so rapid that they blurred into transparency, nearly masked by the sword's ever-deepening contrail. The exhibition ended abruptly, with Tenchi standing quietly amidst the fading wake. Washu froze the image.

"Washu, why did you speed that up so much?" Tenchi asked.

"I didn't," she answered. "That's how fast you were really moving. And what the log doesn't show is what the rest of us felt during your little display — we were practically mesmerized."

Tenchi was speechless. They were all looking at him, a mixture of concern and awe. He drained his tea before looking once more at the screen. It took a moment to find his voice. "So, what's happened to me? Did I mutate into Sonic the Hedgehog? Am I even human any more?"

"Oh, you're still very human. In fact, according to Tsunami, you're more human than the rest of us."

"Huh?"

"Tsunami told us that once inside your cocoon, you would metamorphose into an 'adult.' I didn't know what she meant at the time, but I think I do now. As a complete organism, _Homo sapiens_ contains a lot of undeveloped potential. We galactics have had a head start on you colonials, but not all that much. I think you leap-frogged all of us, Tenchi. You are not so much a superman as you are a fully-realized man. It's what the race as a whole will evolve into, eventually."

"That doesn't explain how I was able to move so fast. No human being can move like that."

"You can."

"How?"

"Applied Power. You know what psychokinesis is, don't you? Mind over matter. It's one of the basic manifestations of Power adepts, and there are plenty of examples around here all the time: Ryoko hovers and flies, for instance. Well, instead of using Power to defy gravity, you use it to defy inertia. Same principal, different goal. You probably used PK to push your limbs, too. None of your muscles were modified by your transformation, Tenchi, but your brain underwent a 37% increase in neuron connectivity. Your astral pattern and psycho-layer pattern were heavily modified. Anything that has to do with higher mental processes and Power manipulation was upgraded. In a nutshell, you move faster, you react faster, your Power attributes have gone through the roof, and I wouldn't be at all surprised at any perceptive talents that start coming on-line. I've been saying all along your potentials are off the scales; well, those potentials are starting to be achieved. You've changed from a pussycat into a tiger in less than a week."

Tenchi just shook his head. The image on the screen had a feral, predatory look; but that's not how he'd felt. Exhilarated, maybe...hyper, even...but not angry. He voiced his concerns.

Washu nodded. "That's good to know. We wouldn't want our husband to become an arrogant, domineering prick, now would we?"

"Or another Kagato," Yosho whispered. The temperature in the room dropped suddenly.

"Well, I fully intend to listen to my counselors — my wives — to prevent that from ever happening."

"Just another reason you'll need all five of us. Of course," Washu's face broke into a smirk, "one of the truly interesting experiments we have to look forward to is just how many of your new traits will be passed on to your offspring: OUR children. We ought to raise the standards significantly!" Her cackle had the desired effect of lessening the tension in the room.

"I hope this means he isn't going to do **everything** quickly," Mihoshi said, and then blushed under the astonished stares directed her way.

"If it does, that just means more repetitions per evening," Ayeka mused. She did not redden under the gazes, just smiled appreciatively.

In fact, four contemplative leers were soon focused on Tenchi.

"It always comes back to sex, doesn't it?" Tenchi sighed.

"And your point is...?" asked Ryoko, smiling like a hungry cat.

"You should do well in the Great Game," Yosho observed.

"What Great Game?" Tenchi asked.

"Washu described it earlier," Yosho replied. "Male Power adepts compete among themselves for dominance. It's not only a biological imperative, but it's woven into the very fabric of society. Every human organization in the galaxy has some form of it. You cannot avoid it; you will be Challenged."

"What if I don't want to play in this Great Game?"

"As I said, you cannot avoid it."

"You're serious?"

"Absolutely. Not only will your honor be at stake, but often your life as well. I was Challenged many times."

"Did you ever lose a Challenge?"

"No, or Ayeka would have been First Crown Princess long ago."

"Great. Just great."

"Actually," Ayeka said slowly, "there might be a way to discourage any frivolous Challenges — maybe even all of them."

"How?" he asked morosely.

"Release that video we just watched. As long as it can be verified as authentic..."

"I encrypt all my sensor logs for that very reason," Washu informed them, "as well as date/time stamp them."

"Yosho, wouldn't anyone watching Tenchi execute those forms seriously reconsider issuing a Challenge to him?" Ayeka asked.

"I can't speak for others, of course, but I know I sure would."

"Who do you release the file to, so that it gets maximum distribution?" Washu queried.

"I can answer that one," Funaho responded, "the Grand Council. There's already a media leak among the members, and I guarantee that such a tempting revelation will not only find its way into public news sources, but into many baronial security organs as well."

"Maybe we should also add a message from Tenchi to my father, allaying any fears of a Succession Challenge anytime soon," Ayeka offered.

"That's an excellent idea," Funaho said. "In fact, perhaps it should be tailored to a more a general audience..."

Washu turned to her ever-ready keyboard. "Let me make some notes..."

############

Washu opened the dimensional doorway and stopped. The house was quiet, which it definitely hadn't been when she went into her lab to prepare for the next recording session. She closed the door softly and started searching room-by room. What she discovered was:

* Mihoshi was snoring her way through a nap on the sofa.  
* Ryoko was snoring her way through a nap on her rafter.  
* Funaho and Yosho were deep in conversation in the kitchen.  
* Ayeka and Sasami (and Ryo-ohki) were sleeping in their room.  
* Nobuyuki was still at work, as usual.

She finally located Tenchi outside on the deck, wearing an overcoat and shoveling snow. She snitched one of his heavy sweaters, donned it, and passed through the sliding glass door. Tenchi had not shoveled the snow here yet, and she tried to step in his footprints as she moved to join him. He turned, his face windblown and hair disheveled, but his smile was warm. She stood in front of him, unbuttoned his coat, and slid her arms inside the flaps and around his ribs for warmth. She didn't say anything, just kissed him long and passionately, finally nibbling on his neck before putting her head on his shoulder. "Thank God you're ok."

"Surely you remained the voice of reason and objectivity the whole time?"

"It's very hard for my brain to remain objective when my heart is screaming in panic. I was so worried about you."

"And I'm worried about you — you aren't really dressed warm enough to be out here."

She smiled. "It's only my back that's cold."

"This coat isn't big enough to hold two people."

"So improvise." He did: suddenly he was wrapping a blanket across them. "Where did that come from?"

"I summoned it."

"You what?"

"I teleported it from my room."

She leaned back to look into his eyes. "How long have you been able to do that?"

He frowned. "It just came to me."

"What else can you do?"

Tenchi shrugged. "Well, I can move really, really fast...but you already knew that." He smiled and kissed her forehead. "But I do see hints and possibilities in my mind."

Washu rolled her eyes and put her head back on his shoulder. "And I can see that the next few years are going to be truly interesting ones. You'd better plan on some long visits to my lab."

"Your lab or your bedroom?"

"Both." She was quiet for a while, warm and contented, thinking about the last few days. "Tenchi, you were able to scan all of us during that link, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"Could you read our minds?"

"Nope. It didn't work that way." Her relief was obvious. "Why? Are you disappointed?"

"No...it's just that everyone has some secrets to keep, and I'd like to keep mine."

Tenchi shrugged. "I have no problem with that."

That's what she loved most about him: he was so willing to accept them, without reservations. She hugged him, just because it felt so damn good. "So, what's this mental rapport like?"

"Well, it's not telepathy, nor even empathy, but some form of character assessment or clairvoyant profiling. I can only communicate if I have a link established, but I can send Power through that link. I was able to affect the other person's moods to some extent. And I learned that intimate contact was possible...no matter who initiates it."

"I think you're going to find that change in awareness very useful in the future. Particularly when it come to negotiating with diplomats and politicians." And then a mischievous grin crossed her face. "And speaking of negotiating, just how do you intend to deal with five horny women, anyway? Are you going to draw names each night?"

"No, actually I was thinking of a rotating schedule, spending a week at a time with each of you. That way we can make adjustments for illnesses and absences."

"That's not a bad answer."

"Funaho says our wing of the palace will have six suites, so there should be ample room for privacy."

Her head snapped up, and she gave him a suspicious look. "What do need **six** bedrooms for?"

"Well, I need an office, and some place to store my clothes," he answered innocently.

"I suppose that makes sense."

"I can honestly say that there will be no more women in my life, if that's what you're worried about," Tenchi said. "I'm going to have my hands full as it is — why would I want anyone else?" He kissed her, and nudged her head back onto his shoulder. "I know there is going to be some jealousy and competition — at least for a while — but I trust that you ladies will adjust. And I know that this whole arrangement can't be really comfortable for any you."

"It's not," she confirmed, "but it definitely beats the alternative. Not one of us will willingly give you up. And your part in this isn't going to be easy, either, you know. You're going to have to fight the tendency to play favorites — unless it's me, of course." She was only half-kidding.

"There won't be any favoritism. Each of you is unique, and each of you is very special. That's why I couldn't choose one over the others." And then he added softly, "And I would rather die than give up any one of you."

It was a sincere statement of fact, bereft of bravado, and it brought a lump to her throat and tears to her eyes. _Oh yes_ she decided, _this one was definitely worth the wait. One-fifth of him was worth more than all the others combined. _She nuzzled his neck for a bit, and then another thought occurred to her. "Tenchi? Since Yosho and I have both reverted to our true forms, isn't it time you did the same?"

"If you mean what I think you mean, you may not be able to handle it."

"Try me."

So he did: he had been keeping his Power restricted, muted, to shield those around him from its true intensity. He pushed his internal 'throttle' all the way to 'fourth gear', and let it radiate unhindered. He saw the Emblem of Power reflected in her eyes as it snapped into place on his brow. Washu gasped and went rigid, her fingers digging holes into his back. Concerned, he returned to 'whisper mode.' She leaned away from him, staring at him wide-eyed.

It took her a few moments of deep breathing to regain her composure. "My God, that was like being immersed in pure aphrodisiac. Talk about primal reactions! Right now I have an overwhelming desire to drag you to the nearest bed and start our honeymoon two months early. You'd better keep that pheromone-flavored aura under lock-and-key until we build some immunity to it."

"I thought it might come in handy over the next few months," he said, grinning slyly.

"Then you'd better start conserving your strength, because you're sure going to need it."

"I think I can rise to the challenge."

She groaned at the pun.

############

Tenchi spoke: "I wish my great-grandfather a long and happy life, and an equally long and prosperous reign. I have no wish to Challenge him; I would much rather learn from him, and serve the Throne in whatever manner best suits my abilities.

"My wives and I will welcome all guests to our home with open arms. We find greater security in friendship than in martial prowess. However, we would also issue a warning to anyone attempting to interfere in our home life: such an act will be considered a Challenge and treated accordingly."

Though Tenchi's posture was casual, his mindset was not. His awareness turned inward, and once again he mentally engaged his 'engine' and put himself in idle. The Emblem of Power flashed into visibility on his brow, and a moment later the Lighthawk Wings sparkled into existence and hovered in the air before him. With a growing sense of excitement, he directed Power into the wings and _shifted_:

_First Gear_ — the wings shuddered and thickened, swelling as Power poured into them.  
_Second Gear_ — the wings broadened and brightened, blossoming under the increasing flood.  
_Third Gear_ — the wings continued to expand outwards, as the flood increased to a torrent.  
_Fourth Gear_ — the wings had doubled in size, and throbbed with internal fire.

Power cascaded through Tenchi with a satisfying roar, but the backwash of energy was having a profound effect on the galactics behind him. Where females of many species signal their interest with subtle clues of sound and fragrance, males often respond with resplendent plumage or kaleidoscopic displays. So, too, with human adepts: the sheer intensity of the Power radiating from Tenchi bespoke his suitability and dominance in a game as old as time. Weak-limbed and gasping, they succumbed to the primordial cues hard-wired into their brains. Ayeka's, Mihoshi's, Ryoko's, and Washu's own Power attributes activated in response, synchronizing with his; they became immobilized. Sasami was not so affected, having yet to pass through puberty, but even her immature Juraian genes felt a strong stirring.

Tenchi recognized their distress almost immediately, and opened mind links with all of them. With much fluttering of eyelids and shaking of heads, they threw off the paralyzing effects of his turbulence. Yet, they remained entrained to him, sharing their own faculties in a two-way exchange. The air in the lab roiled visibly.

The wings hung in the air in their Y-shaped configuration. Tenchi stepped forward and **through** the lowest blade. As he emerged a glistening fog settled around him, crystallizing rapidly into glowing body armor. Tenchi stepped forward two paces, and turned, calling to Ryoko through his link.

TENCHI -_ Ryoko, will you follow me?_

RYOKO - _Are you sure?_

TRUST - _Trust me_

She did, implicitly. She walked forward and stepped into the blade. She emerged on the far side, and looked down to see the glowing fog solidifying around her limbs. As her Lighthawk Armor took shape, she moved to join Tenchi. She embraced his right arm, all the while marveling at the lightness and flexibility of her glowing carapace.

TENCHI - _Ayeka? Will you join me?_

AYEKA - _Yes, Beloved, I'm coming_

Ayeka stepped through the blade, head held high as befits a Princess. Her aura shimmered and settled as the Lighthawk Armor condensed. She strode to Tenchi's left side and grasped his hand, squeezing it.

TENCHI - _Mihoshi? Will you come with me?_

MIHOSHI - _Of course!_

Mihoshi stepped carefully through the blade, trying to avoid stumbling and ruining such a dramatic moment. She, too, was soon cloaked in her own Lighthawk Armor and she walked gracefully over to stand beside Ayeka.

TENCHI - _Washu? Will you join me?_

WASHU - _Yes, Tenchi_

And Washu stepped through the blade, scrutinizing the armor that contracted around her. She noted that all five suits pulsed subtly in the same rhythm (Tenchi's heartbeat). She walked over to stand next to her daughter.

TENCHI - _Sasami? Will you come, too?_

SASAMI - _Oh, Boy!_

Sasami leaped through the blade, landing lightly and effortlessly. However, the glowing mist did not coalesce into full battle armor; instead, she found herself wearing a diminutive breastplate and girdle, an elegant tiara, and carrying an elaborate scepter. She ran over to stand in front of Tenchi, chin in the air and eyes sparkling.

They all looked into the camera. "We are the Hand of Jurai," Tenchi stated. "We can be opened in friendship, or clenched in anger. The decision is yours."

############

"That was quite impressive," Yosho said. The whole family was sitting around the dinner table. They had all adjusted their seats to face the large screen in the air behind Washu. Her fingers rested lightly on the shadow keyboard below the screen, controlling the video they had been watching. The image frozen on the screen was that of Tenchi and his entourage, encased in Lighthawk Armor and looking very determined. Everyone's Armor had a different look to it, although there was plenty of commonality.

The script for Tenchi's speech had been their first conjugal effort, and it had contained a contribution from each of them. However, dressing each of the ladies in Lighthawk Armor had been Tenchi's improvisation, a spur-of-the moment inspiration he was now regretting. "We look like Power Rangers," he snorted.

"I think we look more like the Knight Sabers," Mihoshi said. "Definitely more stylish than Galaxy Police hardsuits."

"At least we had good solid footwear, not some ridiculous high-heeled monstrosities," Ayeka said.

"Why is mine so different?" Sasami asked. "And where did that scepter come from?"

Tenchi smiled. "The scepter was a gift from Tsunami, so you'll need to ask her about it. You aren't an adult yet, so no combat armor for you. But you are also my betrothed, and I wanted to include you. Actually, I thought you looked very pretty, Sasami."

"Hey, I like my armor," Ryoko said. "Tenchi, did you design it?"

"Nope. You did."

"Huh?" five voices chorused.

"I used the same quantum pattern for all of us. However, it must also tap into the wearer's mind somehow, since it changes to fit body size and shape. Frankly, I don't know."

"The pattern is interactive?" Washu asked excitedly. Tenchi shrugged and nodded, and Washu started typing furiously onto her keyboard. "I suppose that applies to the Lighthawk Sword, as well?"

"Yes. When I used it this morning, I sensed that it had quite a list of functions built into it. One of those was the slicing beam I somehow activated during my duel with Kagato. No wonder the Souja was cut in half."

Washu was cackling quietly while entering data into her terminal, all the while wearing that Sherlock-Homes-on-the-case look of intense concentration. Her fingers stopped dancing with a flourish. "I think we're going to have some really interesting research in the near future."

"I think we'd better concentrate more on the weddings for now," Funaho said.

"'We?' I take it you have decided to stay?"

"Yes, Yosho, I feel I should remain here. I think I need to spend some quality time with my family."

"Alright!" Sasami cheered, and ran around the table to give her half-mother a hug. Ayeka giggled, but nodded approvingly.

"However, I will need to communicate with my secretary aboard my ship. I am compiling quite a list of instructions for him. We'll have to send a courier 'bot back to Jurai in the near future."

"Including these videos?" Washu asked.

"Especially these videos," Funaho answered.

############

Washu was standing quietly on the dock, watching the waves lap against the side of Funaho's shuttle. She was lost in thought, so didn't notice right away when Tsunami shimmered into visibility beside her.

"A beautiful morning, isn't it?" Tsunami asked.

"Yes, it is," Washu replied.

"Waiting for Lady Funaho?"

"Yes."

Washu seemed uncommunicative, but Tsunami was patient. She paused a while before speaking. "You really love Tenchi, don't you?"

"Yes. Deeply. Desperately, even."

"I'm having trouble with this concept. It is so new to me."

"How does Sasami feel about him?"

"A great attachment. But is this the same love that you feel?"

"Not yet. Give her a few more years, and then you'll experience it. He seems to have the same effect on all of us."

"Perhaps not all of us, or perhaps not so profoundly." Tsunami indicated Funaho walking down the dock towards them.

"Am I interrupting a conversation?" Funaho asked when she joined them.

"No, we were just discussing emotions," Washu answered.

"Oh? Which emotions?"

"Love."

"And fear. I sense your fear, too, Washu."

"Are you two linked together?" Funaho asked, eyebrow raised.

"No, but we share a common history," Washu replied.

Funaho acknowledge the remark by raising the other eyebrow. "Just what are you afraid of, Washu?"

"Lady Funaho, obviously I have not been exaggerating Tenchi's Power potentials. He will truly be the strongest adept in the galaxy. And that is not counting the gestalt structure he is building with his wives. What scares me the most is not his potentials, or even the machinations of his rivals, but that historically whenever someone develops an awesome weapon it inevitable draws an even more awesome threat."

"Lady Tokimi," Tsunami whispered.

"Yes, Lady Tokimi." Washu and Tsunami exchanged a long, meaningful look, which Funaho caught.

"Who is Lady Tokimi?"

"What do you know about trans-galactic entities?"

**EPILOGUE**

Yosho walked slowly around the lake in front of the Masaki house. It was one of those hot, muggy days so common in late August, when the air was turgid and the breezes sparse. The sun poked holes in the green canopy above him, the birds chirped and sang to their own purposes, and the soft drone of insects offered counterpoint to the rustling leaves. White-hot diamonds sparkled off the lake, the occasional dragonfly zigzagged around the banks, and the waves slapped the shore with their ceaseless message.

This was not an aimless stroll, so much as it was a casual one. Yosho was in no hurry, and the robot courier that hovered over the dock would wait patiently for him. It looked like nothing so much as a bus-length section of sewer pipe, two meters in diameter and made of shiny white metal, both ends capped with sensors and engines. He reached the dock and started along it, the warm smell of sun-drenched wood wafting up to his nostrils. His kimono rolled around his legs like a swinging temple bell.

He stopped next to the 'bot and issued the commands that would open its cargo hatch. It scanned him briefly, matching his mental and astral signatures against its memory files. While he waited for the 'bot to complete its confirmation, Yosho looked back at the house. It was silent now, empty but not abandoned. Tenchi and his family had been on Jurai for over a year; but these last four months Nobuyuki had been dating a widow with two young children, and they had become frequent weekend guests. The children often referred to him as 'Grandpa,' which he took a nostalgic delight in. And, of course, there was the occasional galactic visitor dropping in to visit Crown Prince Yosho. He was still wrestling with that title, since he had relinquished it to Tenchi many years ago — only to find out from one of the visiting botanists that his Royal Tree could, in fact, be made flyable again. (In an act of unbelievable generosity and kindness — at least, unbelievable for her — Ryoko had insisted that Yosho retain her two jewels until "something else can be worked out." They were still affixed to the hilt of the Tenchi-ken, which he kept locked away in his quarters. And they still provided life-sustaining energy to his Royal Tree.) He could return home, and thus accede to his father's wishes. Tenchi, for the most part, was as supportive of that idea as he was of his father's new romantic interest. This house had witnessed much healing in the last few years. It was becoming more and more apparent that his life (and Nobuyuki's) were no longer anchored to the graves on the hill. Perhaps it was finally time to move on.

His reverie was interrupted by a soft cough as the hatch opened. The internal lights flickered on, and Yosho leaned over to inspect the cargo. There were a handful of packages within — two of them quite large — and a bundle of letters. Many bore the pressed-wax seal of the Imperial house, the remainder were addressed to him and Nobuyuki in handwritten script. The former would require some careful examination, while the latter would get the immediate attention. Yosho gathered the entire shipment, heaved it out of the bay, and ordered the hatch sealed (he had forgotten to do that once before, and he had nearly shipped a half-starved squirrel off to Jurai). He readjusted the load in his arms, and started for the house.

Yosho placed the packages on the dining room floor, the mail on the table, and himself into one of the chairs. Then he started sorting items into a pile for himself and a pile for his son-in-law. Not surprisingly, he got the bulk of the mail. The envelope that caught his eye first, and piqued his curiosity the most, was from his mother (her handwriting was unmistakable). He opened it slowly and methodically, ever true to his habits.

_Dear Yosho,_

_ There are few calm moments here, as you may well imagine, but today is a special occasion and I felt motivated to spend a few moments in quiet reflection._

_ Today marks the anniversary of Tenchi's arrival on Jurai, and I must say the palace has not been the same since._

_ One year ago we landed at the capitol spaceport complex, to a totally unexpected — and huge! — crowd of well-wishers and glad-handers, all waiting to see the young prince and his entourage. They were not disappointed. Tenchi strode through the crowds with a well-rehearsed polish, with his new wives (Ryoko, Washu, and Mihoshi) walking very proudly behind him. And behind them came Ayeka and Sasami and I, arm-in-arm and smiling at the crowd. Your half-sisters were very happy to be home, and were completely overwhelmed by their reception. Misaki and Azusa were waiting in the terminal for them, in a private salon, and the reunion was tearful and emotional. Tenchi, for the most part, remained very stoic about the whole experience, having his hands full keeping his brides (particularly Ryoko) well behaved. It was a tentative first step, but an encouraging one._

_ You already know the details of Ayeka's wedding, and Sasami's subsequent betrothal banquet, so I need not repeat them here. But as part of the overall pattern, they marked the watershed. Tenchi's family has finally settled into a comfortable pattern, and his brides moved into the supporting roles they occupy today._

_ I mentioned Ryoko; I must say, I like her, Yosho. Once past the initial wariness, she blossoms like a wildflower. She takes her role as Tenchi's bodyguard extremely seriously, and he never leaves the palace without her. She settled into my security team quite nicely, once they gave her the latitude to express her opinions and act accordingly. I find it very comforting to know that in every photograph published of him to-date, she is either holding his hand or looking over his shoulder. And she is very sharp, too; nothing escapes her notice. She is growing into a formidable security agent. And she and Mihoshi have been sneaking away on little errands for me from time-to-time (when such missions don't conflict with their domestic schedule), with some pretty spectacular results. Ryoko is also getting favorable attention from the military. Recently, Tenchi had been invited to speak at the Naval Academy. But he stood at the podium just long enough to introduce her and then sat down, leaving the audience somewhat flustered. They were even more aghast when she started critiquing certain border deployments. Her assessments were challenged, naturally; she countered, and the issue was only resolved in the simulators — in her favor. While the senior staff merely scoffed, the mid-level staff officers quickly recognized her potential and have been courting her ever since. And when she and Tenchi were invited to the annual Army-Navy fencing tournament, they put on a very impressive exhibition: Ryoko demonstrated her full repertoire of talents, and Tenchi unleashed that blinding speed and his own consummate skills (which I am proud to say that he learned from you). I hear the match ended when Tenchi disarmed her, she grappled him to the floor, and then he pulled her into a passionate kiss that received thunderous applause. They had to pry Ryoko off of him, to even more cheers._

_ Ayeka divides her time between her husband and her father, and relishes the position she has assumed at court. Tenchi says very little during most council meetings, and I wager Ayeka spends a great deal of time coaching and explaining some of the intricacies of political maneuvering to him. She has been approached by several publishing houses eager to discuss the details of her rescue mission. Since it has ended in such a spectacular success, there is a general consensus that it could be an instant best seller in either novelized or serial formats. She usually brushes off their representatives with her regret that she didn't keep a diary, or that Ryu-oh's log was destroyed in the crash. Having spent time among common people (or closer to commoners, at least), getting her hands dirty and seeing the struggles that they face daily, she has assumed the role of spokesperson for quite a number of social and environmental concerns. The liberal press and the Loyal Opposition have been remarkably tame addressing her participation, but the directors and administrators of the various organizations are absolutely delighted. And while Ayeka would never publicly disagree with her father, they have had many private discussions on these topics. And, of course, being the wife of the future emperor, she is assumed to be discussing her opinions with her husband. She can be most persuasive, or so I'm told._

_ Mihoshi was quickly reassigned as liaison to my office, and I put her to instant use by pairing her with Ryoko. They are good for each other, really, and I can see a bond building between them. Several red-faced base commanders have been given copies of her security debriefings, and the reputation of this pair is growing. They appear to be enjoying these trips immensely (Tenchi even snuck along on one of their missions, but Ayeka threw an Imperial hissy fit when she found out about it). She has become quite the darling of the Galaxy Police public relations department. It's not hard to see why: the Marshall's granddaughter rescued by the emperor's great-grandson, which results in True Romance and a marriage proposal. I guess a large stack of damage reports and complaints lodged against her have conveniently disappeared or been quietly paid-off. I had the pleasure of meeting her family at their wedding. They are a charming lot, all of them career GP in one capacity or another. Mihoshi's grandfather, Minami Kuramitsu, is a wily old fox, and is using his own position — and now her status — as bargaining points with some of the guilds. I say good luck to him._

_ Washu is less reclusive than she used to be. She divides her time between her post at the Academy and her newly-acquired family. She doesn't appear to be very enthusiastic about her teaching duties these days, or even her modest research efforts; doubtless it has something to do with the majority of administrators and faculty being the same breed of opportunistic vulture as their predecessors. The current board members seem much more eager to exploit her publicity potentials than any real contributions she could make. I don't look for her to remain at the Academy much longer. As for her home life, she and Ryoko will often be found puttering around in her lab, or she will accompany Tenchi out to the practice field for some new test of his growing Power capabilities. She seems far less content to be alone than she used to be — perhaps she is trying to reacquaint herself with the human race. _

_ Sasami seems the least-affected by the relocation. I have heard many comments about how poised and confident she appears. She spends her days with her tutors, and divides her evenings between our wing of the palace and Tenchi's (she has a suite there that she and Misaki have been decorating, but when she stays the night it is either with Ayeka or Ryoko). She insisted on a kitchen being added to the common area, and she keeps it well stocked and well used. Her laughter can often be heard ringing through the hallways — such a wonderful sound! — and she and Ryo-ohki are as inseparable as ever. I hear she still suffers from occasional nightmares, but it doesn't appear to have affected her overmuch; and we have all been the target of her practical jokes — especially Tenchi. It is fortunate for her that he is such a good sport._

_ And Tenchi himself: your grandson is an extremely impressive young man. You have much to be proud of, Yosho. He rarely loses his temper, is quick to laugh, and seems utterly unconcerned when his wives are arguing (I hear they used to get carried away and frequently damaged the house, but when tempers flare now it rarely takes more than a word or two from him and the participants back-off or take it outside). True to his word, he shows no favorites and dotes over all of them. They adore him. The one time I have ever seem him truly furious was during a Privy Council meeting, when Baron Tennen made some snide comment that was blatantly insulting to Ayeka (his son, Lord Seriyu was once a contender for her hand, you'll recall). Tenchi leaped to his feet even as his Power level soared into what he calls "fourth gear." The Emblem on his forehead was so bright that you couldn't even look at his face, and the Power spike that erupted was felt by adepts all over the capitol. He vaulted over the conference table and went nose-to-nose with the Baron, demanding an instant retraction. He was so angry, and so energized, that the air around him seemed to boil. The Baron managed to squeak out a tolerable apology, but then embarrassed himself even further by emptying his bladder. Tenchi graciously accepted the apology and withdrew, fortunately, since the Baron's clothing was beginning to smolder. Tenchi returned to his chair, but not without failing to beg forgiveness from his great-grandfather for interrupting the meeting over 'personal matters' (Azusa was utterly speechless). As tempers cooled we began to notice a few things: every window in the room had shattered outwards, there were scorch marks on the ceiling over the Baron's seat, and in the midst of the confrontation Ryoko had teleported over to the door and stood barring it with brandished sword. The look in her eyes was death itself — one word from her husband and the decapitations would have commenced. The details of this episode echoed through many a baronial council room (and the media rumor mill) for weeks; Tenchi's stature was raised yet another notch. Incidentally, he has yet to be issued a single Challenge, to his vast relief._

_ Oh, Yosho, how I wish you were. The palace has never felt so vibrant! Tenchi and his ladies fill their wing with constant music and laughter and bickering and activities — in short, it is full of __**life**__. For instance, there is a daily ritual that Tenchi's wives are loath to miss: tea-time. They all gather in the common area and watch their favorite soap opera, munching on snacks and discussing the convoluted plot quirks endlessly. Which gives Tenchi the opportunity to sneak off to his garden so he can commune with nature or schmooze with the groundskeepers. Afterward they stalk him like a pack of wolves, dragging him off to the _onsen_, or kitchen, or even shopping. On one such occasion I witnessed Ayeka and Mihoshi leading a reluctant Tenchi down to the ballroom, with Ryoko floating behind, and Washu and Sasami bringing up the rear. The girls were all laughing and chattering, Tenchi groaned with resignation, and I couldn't resist the urge to tag along. It seems that they had retained the services of a noted dance instructor, and they were eager to learn the latest dances. Poor Tenchi was exhausted by the time lesson was over, but it was an absolutely hilarious hour._

_ You'll notice that in the portraits that accompany this letter, Washu hasn't started to show, yet. When her little bombshell hit the media, Tenchi's other wives were barraged with questions (after all, this child becomes first in the line of succession). Ayeka made the classiest statement ("It just demonstrates our husband's generosity that he would not deny any of us our heart's desire.") and Ryoko made the most direct reply ("I'm happy for her — naturally! — and this way Tenchi's parenting skills will be fine-tuned by the time I need them"). Privately, they are all thrilled, and without exception have stated that if that's what Washu wants, fine — but they're not ready for motherhood yet. Many evenings of late have been spent gathered in Washu's suite decorating the nursery, drinking and snacking, and teasing Tenchi._

_ The botanist that Washu dispatched to Earth returned with encouraging news: your Royal Tree can be regenerated. That is truly heartening news, and it even brought a smile to your father's face. I trust that your response will be favorable; we are already gathering the necessary equipment and personnel for the task. I know of your reluctance, my son, but your duties — and your family — are here on Jurai. We want you to return, and we will all support you against any lingering discontent. Just look at what Tenchi has accomplished: he's only one-eighth Juraian, and one of his wives wreaked catastrophic damage on the capitol centuries ago, but he has been welcomed with open arms. You will be, too._

_Love, _

_Mother_

Portraits? Yosho decided that the two largest packages must be the indicated portraits, and reached for them. They were each tightly wrapped in packing material, sealed against jostling and all manner of accidents and mishandling. He peeled the material easily off the first one, and set it upon one of the chairs, stepping back to study it.

It was a photograph of Tenchi and his family, doubtless the official 'sanitized' version released for public consumption. Each of the subjects had been strategically positioned and dressed for maximum psychological value — it had Funaho's fingerprints all over it:

* Tenchi sat in the center, providing the focal point for the entire group. He was dressed in a conservative business suit of sumptuous fabric, tailored to his broad shoulders. Around his neck he wore the medallion bestowed upon him during his knighting ceremony. His smile was open and honest. To Yosho's eyes, he looked much like his mother, but some of his father's heavier jaw line was apparent as well. He had the bearing of confidence and vigor so typical of the young.

* In front of Tenchi sat Sasami, wearing very petite and feminine robes that enhanced the pink of her eyes and the blue of her hair. Her smile was mischievous, and her eyes were partially closed as though contemplating the appropriate prank to pull upon the viewer. Upon her lap sat Ryo-ohki in her quadruped form, bathed and brushed and wearing the necklace that Tenchi had fastened around her neck the night of his graduation ceremony.

* On Tenchi's right sat Ryoko, with her arms loosely wrapped around his elbow. She wore a suit similar to her husband's, although cut differently to flatter her figure. Glittering on her collar were the rank and insignia badges that declared her allegiance to Funaho's intelligence and security network. Her cyan-colored hair was as haphazard and spiky as ever, but it framed the golden eyes that considered the viewer as coolly as any predator contemplating its next meal. This was the Heir's strong right arm, and you had better take her seriously.

* Behind Tenchi's right shoulder stood Mihoshi, wearing her Galaxy Police dress uniform, her hand placed upon his shoulder. On her chest were the commendation medals given to her for participating in the Kagato and Dr. Clay episodes. Her smile was wide and genuine, and her position next to Tenchi's ear spoke of advice and gut feelings passed along to the intuitive side of her husband's brain. That she also stood near Ryoko (the other half of Funaho's infamous intelligence team) was a statement of solidarity between Juraian security and interstellar law enforcement.

* Behind Tenchi's left shoulder stood Washu, swathed in the robes of a preceptor, mirroring Mihoshi's posture. She'd made no effort to control her long red hair, other than combing it. It spilled across her shoulders like a mane, and her head was canted slightly to the side, one eyebrow raised, as though inspecting the viewer rather than the other way around. She was obviously the source of scientific and technological advice for the logical hemisphere of her husband's brain.

* On Tenchi's left sat Ayeka, with her husband's left hand sandwiched between her own hands. She wore the full finery of a member of the Juraian Imperial family, extravagant and richly embroidered. She was the epitome of pomp and power, and symbolized the lineage that extended for generations into the past. She was expressing confidence to the viewer that there would be no interruption in the bloodline of the House of Jurai. She sat closest to her husband's heart, and thus represented his conscience.

Yosho was quite impressed. As an example of propaganda, it made quite a political statement. However, this was not the image he carried in his heart. That image was much more apparent in the second portrait, which must have been taken only moments after the first:

* Sasami and Ryo-ohki were both leaning backwards and twisted to the right, looking upward and laughing. Tenchi's wives were all leaning over to kiss their husband, and all were flashing the knuckles of their left hand towards the viewer — so that the camera could record the magnificent wedding ring each wore.

* Tenchi's broad smile radiated contentment. He had finally gotten his wish.

====================== **Author's Notes** ==========================

As is usual, I came late to the party. I watched the 13 "Tenchi Muyo" OAV episodes with my youngest daughter (a teenager) and got hooked, and then discovered it is ten years old and out of fashion in Japan these days (summer, 2001). It appears to be going through a twilight period of sorts here in the States, but having watched a couple of the movies and some of the television episodes, I have to say a good story has been terribly diluted by all the mutations to other mediums. How sad.

So, call me a purist. I'll stick with the OAVs, and mourn what might have been.

This story takes place after the OAV series. I've probably stretched the official storyline and canon concepts to the breaking point, but I intended merely to "flesh-out" some interesting threads and possibilities. I hope I didn't do any serious damage.

The characters of Tenchi Muyo were created by Masaki Kajashima and brought to North America by Pioneer LDC. This story, while incorporating names and situations held under copyright by others, is copyright 2001 by Jeffery L. Harris.

This story comes entirely from my imagination, and is not, nor intended to be, canon. Please do not send the legions of lawyers after me...it's not worth their time, or mine.

Any questions or comments should be directed to:

Jeffery L Harris

Subject: "And If I Fall"

**CUT SCENES**

Being eight months pregnant had its advantages and disadvantages, or so Washu rediscovered. Being constantly uncomfortable was the big disadvantage (she'd forgotten just how much); being given first pick of every choice spot was the big advantage. After a period of trial-and-error, she had decided that one particular end of the sofa was about the coziest spot in the common area: it had the softest cushion, the firmest back, the best view of the video screen, and the closest proximity to the bathroom. She staked her claim and no one contested it.

So here she was, sitting on her _de facto_ throne, reading a book, and discreetly watching her daughter wander aimlessly through the small collection of rooms that served as the hub for their six suites. The kitchen, the bathroom, the _onsen_ — Ryoko drifted through them all. Finally curious about the cause, Washu closed her book with a sigh and set it on her lap. "Ryoko, Dear, what's the problem?"

"I'm bored," Ryoko replied, sitting a full meter off the floor, her legs crossed tailor-fashion. She had the remote control, and was randomly selecting channels. Nothing suited her.

"Well, where is everybody?"

"Tenchi's in his office, Ayeka and Sasami are stuck in some conference with their parents, and Mihoshi is at some GP function downtown. I don't really have anything to do."

Washu set her book on the end table, patted the empty cushion beside her, and invited Ryoko to join her. Ryoko did, floating across the room before settling onto the sofa. They each sat half-twisted, facing one another. "It's not like living on Earth was, is it?"

Ryoko shook her head. Tenchi was in high school then, now he spent his mornings at one of the universities here on Jurai. Many an afternoon was spent escorting her husband and his other wives to various ceremonial and political gatherings. She was generally too busy to pay much attention — she was fully engaged watching their backs. And when they were all in the palace, her boss (Tenchi's great-grandmother Funaho) often had a string of meetings and classes and training sessions for her to attend. But today, the schedule was absolutely empty. And therefore dull.

"What are you reading?"

"One of Tenchi's text books. He asked me to help him study, and I thought I'd go over the course material."

"How is it?"

"Pretty lame, if you ask me. A lot of liberal claptrap and the author's private rants. Just so much bilge. I could do a better job, frankly."

"Then why don't you?"

That gave Washu pause. "That's not a bad idea, Ryoko."

"For that matter, you could start a series of text books, for grade school though university." She gestured towards her mother's abdomen. "Seems to me that you have a ready test audience."

"That's a marvelous idea! I'll have to give it some serious consideration."

There was a moment of silence. "Washu, can I ask you something? It's kinda personal."

"Go ahead."

"Did you and Tenchi talk about having kids, before you got pregnant?"

"Yes, we did. Without his approval and support, it wouldn't have happened."

"Don't you think it was rather soon? I mean, we've only been married for a little over a year..."

"I've been waiting a long time, Ryoko. Once I found the right man, I didn't want to wait any longer."

Ryoko nodded. She knew all about waiting in general, and waiting-for-the-right-man in particular.

Washu took Ryoko's hand and squeezed it gently. "Have you and Tenchi discussed children?"

Ryoko nodded slowly. "Yes. He thinks I'll make a good mother."

"So do I."

Ryoko smiled at her. "Thanks." The smile faded. "But I'm not sure we can have any."

"What makes you say that?" Washu asked, frowning.

"Well, I spent all those years with Kagato, desperately hoping I wouldn't get pregnant, and the last year with Tenchi kinda hoping that I would get pregnant. Nothing has happened. I'm worried that nothing **can** happen."

Washu chuckled kindly. "Nothing has happened because I disabled those functions when you were a child. Once Tenchi freed us, I ran diagnostics on you to make sure that Kagato had never tampered with my blocks. For whatever reason, he left them in place. So you can relax, my dear: all of your plumbing is intact and accounted for."

Ryoko's face lit up, her smile radiant. "Then you mean...?"

"Yes, just let me know when you're ready. Twenty minutes in my lab will turn everything back 'on.'"

Ryoko leaned close and squeezed Washu's arm. "Thanks, Mom."

Washu returned the gesture, feeling very content. "I should warn you, though, that once it's done it's a permanent fix. You'll be on birth control like Ayeka, Mihoshi and me."

"I think I can handle it," Ryoko beamed.

Washu nodded. And then she felt movement across her abdomen. She brought her hand (still grasping Ryoko's) up to her belly, and placed the back of her daughter's hand on top of the little ripple. Ryoko's smile softened, and she giggled. "Next time you and Tenchi discuss the subject, you should be able to answer him with some confidence."

"Discuss what subject?" Tenchi asked. He was standing in his office door, arms outstretched in a yawn, a thick book in his left hand. The two ladies turned and looked over their shoulders. "Oh, I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something?"

"No, Dear," Washu smiled.

Ryoko slid across the sofa and indicated the gap. "Why don't you join us?"

Tenchi was mildly suspicious (past experience had proven this to be a prudent reaction), but he nodded and closed his office door. He walked around the sofa and sat in the proffered space. "What were you ladies talking about?"

"Children," Washu answered. She placed his hand where Ryoko's had been, and he felt the movement, too. He grinned.

"Tenchi, Washu says that I **can** have children. Isn't that great!"

"Well," he said, his tone of voice turning serious, "she has got a pretty good head-start on you..." Washu poked him in the ribs. "Ow! What was that for?"

"For being droll when Ryoko is so excited," Washu replied.

"I'm sorry, I was only teasing," he said to Ryoko. She showed her forgiveness by kissing him. "I think that's wonderful news. But, I didn't think that you wanted a baby so soon."

"I'm not sure that I do. But now I know that it's possible, which makes all the difference. Oh, I'm so happy!"

"And I'm so tired."

"Just what do you have to be tired about?" Washu asked.

"This history text is slow going," he replied, indicating the book on his lap. "I'm fighting sleep and a headache trying to wade through it. And since my Juraian isn't fluent yet..."

"Maybe you need something to take your mind off of it for awhile," Ryoko suggested innocently.

"Yeah, maybe I do," Tenchi replied as rubbed the back of his neck. He realized too late that he'd just fallen into a trap, as Ryoko's arms snaked around him, accompanied by her lecherous laughter. He had no chance to resist before they disappeared.

Washu chuckled. She knew where they were. There was a muffled shout from behind the door to Ryoko's suite...doubtless the ever-conscientious Tenchi was trying to return to his study and his assignment. He should have known better by now: his wives had spent the last year experimenting with Juraian marital customs, including ways to restrain their husband. Ryoko favored brute strength and rope, Ayeka preferred the traditional manacles and chains, Mihoshi opted for disorienting him in her variable-gravity bed, and Washu employed the accessories of her various costumes. Tenchi couldn't escape via teleportation — yet — but he was getting very tolerant/patient/devious, forcing his wives to be continuously creative. She felt a twinge of envy when she heard the second yelp, but dismissed it — she would have plenty of opportunities later. It was her week, after all.

At least Ryoko wasn't bored any longer.

############

Ayeka enjoyed these meetings. It gave her an opportunity to leave the palace and visit Parliament. The parliamentary campus was a collection of administrative buildings and historical structures dating back thousands of years, all centered around the tower that housed the council chamber. The council chamber itself was an oval-shaped room dominated by an oval-shaped wooden table, the ring of chairs around the table, and the vaulted ceiling which capped the many fluted columns. Windows filled the gaps between the columns, allowing natural light to mix with the overhead luminous strips. The marble floor was kept polished and scuff-free, despite centuries of continuous use. But permeating the room was the feeling of Authority, of decisions debated and decided for the trillions of souls who populated the planets of the Juraian Empire.

Her father, Emperor Asuza, traditionally sat in the middle on one side of the table flanked by his wives. The Heir Apparent traditionally sat behind him and to his left, where he/she could learn statecraft by observation. Once upon a time, her half-brother Yosho had held this seat, quietly listening. On a few occasions she had occupied the seat, eagerly attentive to the debates. Now Tenchi sat there, attended by two of his wives. Ayeka sat to his left, wearing a business suit and conservative makeup. Ryoko hovered behind them both, dressed in the dark gray jumpsuit typical of security personnel. Both ladies kept their eyes in constant motion, although for different reasons — Ayeka followed the discussions, Ryoko followed the gestures of the council members.

Over the course of time, Tenchi was developing a grasp of the politics and personalities — and a growing disgust with the whole process. To his way of thinking, too much time was spent posturing and maneuvering. He lacked Ayeka's appreciation for this slow-motion form of gambling, as well as her patience and perseverance. But he **was** making the effort, which pleased Ayeka greatly. However, sometimes temptation got the better of him, and he would yield to the urge to do something unpredictable. He would later justify each action as an effort to keep the contentious council members off balance — or to irritate his great-grandfather. For instance:

* Tenchi had insisted that Ryoko be allowed to hover above him, rather than stand behind him, while performing her duties. It bothered many of the council members that she floated like a tethered balloon, glaring at everyone suspiciously. It might have gotten into a heated argument if Empress Funaho hadn't stepped-in to support her operative/great-grand-daughter-in-law, and silenced the Emperor with one of her measured glances.

* Another time, Tenchi had brought Washu along. She had only recently started wearing maternity clothes, and he seated her prominently to his right — where she was the most visible — as a subtle reminder of the line of succession. Again, Funaho had bestowed her blessing upon the maneuver. (Ayeka wondered if there wasn't some collusion going on between her half-mother and her husband...not that she minded.)

* On still another occasion, Ryoko had reported that a half-dozen council members were passing around some object at one end of the table. Curious, Tenchi had requested that Ryoko concentrate all her senses on the object. She complied, he focused on the object through their mind link, and in his first public display of the ability he teleported the object into his waiting hands. (It turned out to be a rather exotic statuette.) He gave it a cursory glance before passing it over to Ayeka, who studied it briefly before passing it on to Ryoko, who gave it a very thorough inspection. Their actions had two immediate effects:

(1) All conversation ceased, and the Emperor was forced to turn around and see what had caused the interruption. When prompted for an explanation, Tenchi had apologized for the disturbance, reported his wife's concern over the object being passed around, and offered to return it to its owner after the meeting.

(2) Tenchi had demonstrated yet another Power attribute, heretofore unknown, in a casual and offhanded manner. No one had heard or seen Tenchi and Ryoko exchange any kind of communication, yet they had clearly done so. And Tenchi had defended his wife's actions publicly. Doubtless there would be additions to the secret dossiers each of the council members had on him and his family. Which was the whole point.

* Tenchi's now-infamous response to the insult directed at her by Baron Tennen. Her chest inflated with pride every time she thought about the incident, and her eyes drifted reflexively to the spot on the ceiling that still bore the scorch marks (the shattered windows were more easily replaced).

At the moment, Tenchi looked bored: his head drifted from side-to-side listlessly, his eyelids were propped open, and he rarely spoke (preferring to let the princess do the talking). Ayeka should have been irritated by his seeming lack of interest, except that she knew how false that impression was. Not only was he following the talks closely, but he had shifted his mental perspective into the alternate modes available to him. He had opened mind links with both of his wives, and was feeding information to them as actively as they were answering his questions...not to mention their colorful observations. This gestalt linkage made these normally dreary meetings not only bearable but actually entertaining. To wit:

Ryoko - _Who's that big-chested bigwig with the silver hair?_

Ayeka - _Really, Ryoko, such a crude description._

Ryoko - _So? It fits. Who is she?_

Ayeka - _Countess Rikori. She usually attends these meetings, rather than her husband. Why do you ask?_

Ryoko - _The Countess just slipped something into her blouse, down between her — _

Tenchi - _We get the picture, Ryoko. Was it very large?_

Ryoko - _Nah. Looked like a coin purse._

Tenchi - _The Countess thinks she's being clever. (Tenchi sends them his mental assessment)_

Ayeka - _E-e-e-w-w. Why a spider?_

Tenchi - _She's weaving a web of intrigue, I gather. Does she have many allies?_

Ayeka - _Mostly the men sitting around her, though I don't believe they've been all that supportive of late._

Ryoko - _Probably got tired of sleeping with her._

Ayeka - _Now I'm getting a mental assessment...and it's not pretty._

Ryoko - _Speaking of pretty, isn't that woman at the far end of the table the same one who was flirting with Tenchi at last week's Royal Ball?_

Ayeka - _Yes, now that you mention it. And she's still showing some interest._

Tenchi - _Ladies, please._

Ayeka - _We're just protecting you from the predators, Beloved._

Ryoko - _Yes, Darling, just consider it another Security service._

Tenchi - _Is that why I never get a moment of privacy?_

Ayeka - _Rubbish. You have plenty of privacy._

Ryoko - _Why would you even want to be alone, with such a loving family to keep you company?_

Tenchi - _To keep my sanity. For that matter, while you're so busy watching over me, who's watching over you?_

Ayeka - _Whatever do you mean?_

Tenchi - _Don't think I haven't seen the hungry glances cast at you ladies._

Ryoko - _Really? Like who?_

Tenchi - _There was an Army major at that ball who couldn't keep his eyes off of you, Ryoko. And when I scanned him, this is what I got. (Tenchi sends them his mental assessment)_

Ryoko - _What kind of bird is that?_

Tenchi - _A male peacock. The flashier his plumage, the more successful he is at attracting females._

Ayeka - _Ah, that would be Major Timotin, an adjutant to General Abe. Vain and ambitious, just like your peacock. He's had quite a string of mistresses, or so I'm told. None ever stay with him for very long._

Ryoko - _If still waters run deep, then he must be a parking lot puddle._

Ayeka - _What about me, Beloved?_

Tenchi - _That black-haired, square-jawed man in the brown robes eight seats to our right. _

Ayeka - _Baron Lemidjin? You must be joking._

Tenchi - _I'm afraid not. His intentions are quite clear. (Tenchi sends them his mental assessment)_

Ayeka - _The weasel suits him, though I fear the hunger in his eyes is for my position, not my person._

Tenchi - _Don't be so sure. _

Ryoko - _Maybe we should hook him up with Countess Rikori._

Ayeka - _What a charming idea._

Tenchi - _Maybe you should just stay away from him._

Ayeka - _Tenchi, you sound jealous!_

Tenchi - _Maybe I am. He is handsome..._

Ayeka - _You have no reason to be jealous of anyone, Beloved. I only have eyes for you._

Ryoko - _Yeah, that goes for me, too. _

Tenchi - _Well, you ladies have no reason to be jealous, either._

Ryoko - _But we don't radiate a Power envelope like you do. You draw them out of the woodwork. I repeat, you need protected._

Ayeka - _ Absolutely._

Ayeka looked over at her husband, noticing the conceding smile on his face. He reached across to take her hand, at the same time reaching over his shoulder for Ryoko's waiting hand. She and Ryoko exchanged grins, for once in total agreement.

Author's Notes

The above vignettes were originally part of the Epilogue section for "And If I Fall," but during the final editing period I decided they were a bigger hindrance than a help (they contributed nothing to the final tone) and so were excised.

My intention had been to relegate them to the "bit bucket," but after reading BGlanders' recent piece "Disillusionment" I found myself reluctant to do so. I don't know why, really; even though they may be mildly amusing, once taken out of their original context they are meaningless. However, rather than abort them outright, I decided to submit them to the TMFFA...as inspiration for fellow fan-fic authors, perhaps, or simply an unwillingness to see my efforts erased. I can honestly say that I probably got more pleasure out of writing them (and the story they were removed from) than anyone else will reading them. Maybe this is true of all writers.

The characters of Tenchi Muyo were created by Masaki Kajashima, and brought to North America by Pioneer LDC. This story, while incorporating names and situations held under copyright by others, is copyright 2001 by Jeffery L. Harris.

These stories come entirely from my imagination, and are not, nor intended to be, canon. Please do not send the legions of lawyers after me...it's not worth their time, or mine.

Any questions or comments should be directed to:

Jeffery L Harris

Subject: "Cut Scenes"


	5. EPISODE 4  Katanawoutsu

**PROLOGUE**

_"I do not understand, Father," faltered the boy. _

_ The man shook his black mane. "You will in time, Conan. Before a man is worthy to bear a sword of steel in battle — a weapon such as the gods once bore against the giants — he must learn its riddle. He must understand the ways of steel. Know that in all the world you can trust no one, neither man nor woman nor beast, neither spirit nor demon nor god. But you can trust a blade of well-forged steel." _

_ The man cupped his son's small hands within his own and, curling the boy's fingers about the hilt of the great sword, said; "The heart of a man is like a piece of unworked iron. It must be hammered by adversity and forged by suffering and the challenges flung by the thoughtless gods, nigh unto the point of breaking. It must be purged and hardened in the fires of conflict. It must be purified and shaped on the anvil of despair and loss. _

_ "Only when your heart has become as steel will you be worthy to wield a keen-edged sword in battle and win against your enemies, as did the gods when they conquered the giants. When you have mastered the mysteries of steel, my son, your sword will be your very soul." _

"Conan the Barbarian"  
— L. Sprague De Camp and Lin Carter  
Based on a screenplay by John Milius and Oliver Stone

It was just a dream.

She knew it was just a dream.

But it wasn't an ordinary dream.

It was a precognitive dream.

By now, Sasami knew the difference by the way it felt.

She was floating high above Jurai, its oceans and continents peeping out from beneath the cloud formations. She could see the moons drifting nearby. And everywhere there were ships. Metal skins reflected sunlight as harsh pinpoints; organic skins scattered the glare with their rough textures. Further out, she sensed even more ships, but these were ugly things, abrasive to the eyes and sensibilities. And all the ships were shooting at one another. Startica fireworks raised above the stratosphere...

Then the two most important men her life were floating before her. Her father, Azusa, and her betrothed, Tenchi. The former was a blue-haired bear of a man, large-boned, heavily-muscled, gregarious and moody. The latter was a slender athlete, serious and shy, immensely powerful. Both men were surrounded in flames.

Were they fighting each other? The thought alarmed her, and she cried out to them both. They couldn't — or wouldn't — answer. She tried again, and again. And still they struggled. But with who? Spaceships swirled about the heavens and died, fiery fragments vanishing into the darkness. And then a ball of fire erupted out beyond the moons, swelling and billowing until it consumed everyone and everything.

Sasami woke, gasping and shivering. 

**ACT 1 - FORGING AND SHAPING**

_When you look into a mirror  
The reflection that you see  
Is a shell of what you were  
It's not who you want to be _

_But you're gonna change  
You've just about made up your mind  
(You're gonna change)  
You're gonna change  
And when you leave it all behind _

_What will the past remember?  
What will the future bring?  
When you walk out  
When you walk out _

_You were brought into this world  
With a head full of good ideas  
But the person you became  
Well you just couldn't be for real _

_But you're gonna change  
You've just about made up your mind  
(You're gonna change)  
You're gonna change  
And when you leave it all behind_

What will the past remember?  
What will the future bring?  
When you walk out  
When you walk out 

_But you're gonna change  
You've just about made up your mind  
(You're gonna change)  
You're gonna change  
And when you leave it all behind _

_What will the past remember?  
What will the future bring?  
When you walk out  
When you walk out  
When you walk out  
When you walk out  
When you walk out_

Title: "Walk Out"  
Artist: Matthew Sweet 

Detective First Class Kiyone Makibi was falling. But it wasn't an ordinary fall: she had tumbled off a gantry high over an experimental power reactor. Normally, dropping a distance of several stories to impact on the structure below should have taken only a few seconds. Her death should have been instantaneous and messy. But these weren't normal circumstances.

Kiyone and her partner had originally been given a search-and-rescue assignment for a kidnapped Galaxy Police Detective — one of their fellow GP officers.

The kidnapper was a lieutenant of the crime lord who had been stealing all available supplies of a hazardous new element. The crime boss, one Naja Akara by name, had an axe to grind against the Juraian Empire. And she intended to use the extremely dense, poisonously radioactive, and highly unstable material to build a superweapon to use against Jurai.

Naja Akara was located by Juraian Intelligence in the bowels of a large space station, originally carved out of an iron asteroid over three kilometers in diameter. The lieutenant and the missing GP officer were also on the station.

Kiyone and her partner were given permission to accompany the JI assault team. They had successfully recovered the kidnapped officer, and had cornered the crime boss in her command center. It was during the ensuing firefight that Kiyone, gun in hand, had been bumped off the gantry...by her partner.

Rather than face capture, Naja initiated the self-destruct sequence of the main reactor, which was powered by the stolen material.

The reactor promptly did a fine impression of a collapsing star, vanishing into a singularity of its own creation, and taking most of the station with it. As she fell, Kiyone watched the structure around her shred into long fragments of steel and plastic. Much of the detritus fell into the singularity immediately, disappearing like ingested noodles. Other loose fragments, like herself, fell at a slower rate. She could see the roof far above her crumble, and even caught a glimpse of the stars beyond. She grabbed hold of a column that was tumbling slowly beside her, hoping to avoid being caught between it and a falling section of wall. The lights around her failed, and the scene was lit by the hellish light of Cherenkov radiation from the singularity's event horizon. She knew that the pocket of air around her was dissipating rapidly, and it was just a question of what would kill her first: being crushed between falling fragments, asphyxiated by the encroaching vacuum, freezing solid as the heat rushed into space, or having the molecules of her body stretched apart and scattered by the gravitational forces. With her last breath, she screamed a final message for her partner: "Mihoshi! I swear I will KILL you!"

##########

And then the universe flickered, and she was no longer falling.

Floating, but not falling.

And she had air to breathe. And it was warm. And there was light, provided by banks of lamps.

Kiyone panted, trying to force her respiration rate back to normal. And she blinked repeatedly, trying to acclimate to the sudden brightness. And the realization that she was, miraculously, alive.

Weightlessness was a familiar feeling for her, so she relaxed. She twisted her head around slowly, examining her immediate environment. She was in a sphere made of a transparent material, approximately eight meters in diameter. The sphere was placed in the center of a large room, which looked like a laboratory or small warehouse. The lights came from one surface, which she assumed was the ceiling, while the opposite surface contained an assortment of consoles and tables, which she assumed was the floor. And as she rotated around her own center of mass, she became aware of someone watching from just outside the sphere.

The observer was a woman, quickly determined by large breasts and a mane of spiky red hair that stretched nearly to the floor. She wore a white lab coat, whose big pockets hid her hands. And there was a gaily-colored tummy pouch which hung from her shoulders, which appeared to contain a red-haired infant. The woman smiled with the patient air of someone who's just discovered a new puzzle. "Hello, Officer."

"Uh, hello."

"Impressive. Not the usual panicky, 'Where am I?' You're good."

"Well, I know where I'm not. I suppose I have you thank for rescuing me?"

"Yes, you do. And I am just dying to hear how you happened to be falling into the event horizon of a mini black hole."

Kiyone hesitated. She knew that the standard procedure for any JI Special Ops team was a mindblock, and that any member of the team attempting to relate the tale would end up babbling some nonsensical story. Doubtless she and Mihoshi would have gotten the same treatment. "I was on a covert operation," she finally replied, "and I'm not at liberty to talk about it."

"Ah, that would be the Ultra Energy Matter fiasco."

Kiyone gasped. "You know about that?"

"Mmm-hmmm," the observer nodded. "Naja Akara and I are old acquaintances. Let me introduce myself: I'm Princess Washu Masaki, and this little lady is my daughter Achika. And you would be...?"

"First Class Detective Kiyone Makibi." Washu removed a small control pad from one pocket and began typing on its keypad. Kiyone felt gravity start to appear, pulling her feet toward the bottom of the sphere. "Old acquaintances?"

"We went to the Galaxy Academy together, a long time ago. She disappeared later near K1190, after being attacked by pirates. She surfaced some years afterwards, and I've been keeping an eye on her ever since. By the way, you can put that pistol away. You're quite safe here."

"Huh? Oh! Sorry about that." Kiyone was still clutching her service-issue sidearm, which she slid into her shoulder holster. With a satisfying _click_ her feet connected with the bottom of the sphere, and her weight returned to normal. A wedge-shaped opening appeared and swung outwards, and Kiyone stepped onto the concrete floor. She noticed that Washu was typing on a shadowy keyboard that hovered at waist level, and that an equally shadowy panel was displaying graphic information for her. With a start, Kiyone recognized her own image flash across the screen. "What are you doing?"

"Verifying your identity. Yes, indeed, you are Detective Kiyone Makibi, reported MIA three years ago as a casualty of the Ultra Energy Matter incident. No effort was made to scan the remains of Naja's space station, and it was quarantined by the GP and the Juraian navy."

"What do you mean, 'three years'? I couldn't have been gone that long."

"Actually, you have. You have to remember that time slows down near the event horizon of a singularity — so for you, it's only been a few moments' subjective time. Good thing, too, or you'd have been dead long ago. Here, I'll update your personnel file and notify your family, as well as your regional commander."

"You have that authority?"

"Being a member of the Jurai Imperial Family has certain privileges...not to mention that the GP computers are an easy hack for someone like me. Just how did you get dropped into that singularity in the first place?"

"My idiot partner lost her balance and pushed me off an observation platform."

"'Idiot partner,' eh?" Washu typed a string of instructions into her keyboard, and then grinned wickedly at the information returned to her. "H-m-m-m, I thought your name sounded familiar."

"Now that you mention it, your name sounds familiar, too. But I don't remember any _Princess_ Washu."

"I married into the Imperial Family a year ago." Washu made a gesture and the keyboard vanished. "Well, we're done here. Let's go upstairs while I feed the baby." She removed her lab coat and laid it over a hoverchair back, then started towards a door that Kiyone hadn't noticed before.

"By the way, just where are we?"

"Down here we're in a pocket in psuedospace; upstairs is the north wing of the Imperial palace."

"The Imperial palace?" Kiyone straightened her uniform vest, not that it did much good — she was pretty frumpy-looking after dodging blaster bolts and rolling around the decks of Naja Akara's space station. She expected an elevator or a stairs, but the door led directly into a large room. The room was obviously a common area, full of comfortable furniture, bookcases, and closed doors. The wall opposite the doorway opened onto a kitchen and dining room, and Washu headed for the latter. Kiyone was just walking past a sofa, looking interestedly at the decorations — and stopped dead in her tracks. A group portrait hung on the wall, of four young women and a girl encircling a young man. Kiyone's eyes locked onto one of the figures, her eyes bulging and mouth dropping open. Finally, she was able to mutter one word: "Mihoshi?"

Washu turned, grinning. "She's the 'idiot partner' you mentioned, isn't she?"

"Yes," Kiyone finally managed to say.

"Well she hasn't changed much in three years." Washu unzipped the outer layer of her belly pouch, and the infant within stirred. Tufts of pinkish-red hair wavered slowly above the lip of the pouch. A moment later, she had the infant free and laid upon her shoulder.

"Wait a minute — she's wearing detective captain's bars!"

"She's been promoted a couple of times since her wedding. I guess the GP figured that their PR superstar needed some window dressing." Washu put a blanket on the dining room table, laid the baby on the blanket, and then shed the belly pouch. She flexed her shoulders wearily, dropped into a chair, unfastened one of the catches on her blouse, and positioned Achika for breastfeeding. Kiyone barely noticed.

"And after all my efforts to get promoted..." She studied the image of Washu in her university robes. "Ah, hah! Now I remember you: Washu Hakubi, kidnapped by the criminal Kagato."

"It's Princess Washu Masaki now, and yes that was me."

"How did you escape? Did Kagato ransom you?"

"No. Tenchi killed him in a duel."

"Your husband?" Kiyone examined the central figure in the portrait. "Wow, he must be a tremendous Power adept."

"He is. He's the great-grandson of Emperor Azusa."

Kiyone digested the information, putting the pieces together. "I don't remember the Emperor having a great-grandson. But I do recognize Princess Ayeka and Princess Sasami."

Washu shifted her daughter slightly. "Yep. Ayeka is married to the Prince, too, and Sasami will be when she's a little older. Right now they're formally betrothed."

"All these women are married to Prince Tenchi? Even Mihoshi? But I thought polygamy among the Royal Family was strictly regulated."

"Juraian law permits it if the consorts are all Power adepts."

Kiyone tuned sharply to stare at Washu. "Mihoshi? I knew she was an empath, but a Power adept? I find that hard to believe."

"Believe it. She's an electrokinetic, as well as able to stack probabilities in her favor. If she ever learned to control those talents properly, she'd be a formidable adept."

Kiyone shook her head, more than a little dazed by the revelation. "Who's this?"

"My daughter, Ryoko."

"Ryoko, the space pirate? Your _daughter_?"

"Yes, she was a pirate, and, yes, she is my daughter."

"She had been missing for centuries..."

"She went 'underground' for a while, until the statute of limitations had expired on her charges. Not long after that it was revealed that Kagato had enslaved her, forcing her to commit all those crimes. She was publicly pardoned just before she married Tenchi. You look like you could use some tea."

"Yeah, that's not a bad idea."

"You'll find a pot brewing in the kitchen. Cups are in the cupboard on the left."

Kiyone pulled herself away from the portrait and drifted into the kitchen, all the while muttering about _Princess_ Mihoshi. Washu lifted Achika and rotated her, allowing her to reach the other breast. Kiyone sat next to them at the table stirring the tea before sipping it.

"Hey, this is pretty good. Who made it?"

"Sasami. She's an absolute sorceress in the kitchen. By the way, there's a book on that shelf over there that you might find interesting reading." Kiyone rose and walked to the indicated bookshelf. "Second shelf, third book from the left end. That's it, the skinny one."

"Oh my god," Kiyone whispered. "This looks like one of Mihoshi's reports."

"It is. She wrote it right after the Kagato Incident. It started a chain of events that took two years to resolve. It also explains how we all met Tenchi, who no one knew even existed."

Intrigued, Kiyone returned to her seat and started thumbing through the pages. She hadn't gotten very far when she heard voices. She looked up casually, and then snapped smartly to attention as she recognized the first two women to enter the common area. She bowed deeply from the waist as Empress Funaho and Empress Misaki strode into the dining room, chatting amiably with a third woman. Before Kiyone could utter a polite, "Your Majesties," the third woman gasped loudly and practically vaulted the table.

"KIYONE!" Mihoshi wrapped her arms around her old friend and put The Squeeze on her.

"Mihoshi...can't breathe...too tight!"

"Oh, Kiyone, I just _knew_ you weren't dead! I just knew it!" Mihoshi relaxed her grip, but maintained the embrace. "How did you get here?"

"Princess Washu rescued me," Kiyone gasped.

"Oh, Washu, thank you — thank you so much!"

"Don't mention it," Washu replied.

"Who is your friend, Mihoshi?" Funaho asked.

"This is my former partner and best friend in the whole universe, Detective First Class Kiyone Makibi!"

"Nice to meet you, Detective," Funaho replied.

"Uh, thank you, Your Majesty," Kiyone managed to wheeze, embarrassed by Mihoshi's emotional gush, and her own predicament. She would have bowed, but Mihoshi held her in an iron grip. She at least nodded her head.

"Detective," Misaki said, and chuckled slightly.

"Your Majesty," Kiyone nodded towards Misaki.

"Lady Misaki, I just finished feeding Achika. Would you like to burp her?" Washu asked.

"Oh, absolutely!" Misaki replied. She took the offered blanket, folded it, and put it over her shoulder, then carefully lifted the baby and placed her on the blanket. She wandered away from the table, making cooing noises and patting Achika's back. Washu and Funaho grinned at each other, watching Misaki's bobbing backside.

"What did you discover, Washu?" Funaho asked, taking a seat at the table. She gestured to Kiyone and Mihoshi to join her. Kiyone managed to regain her seat, with Mihoshi plopping onto the chair next to her.

"There are definitely gravity waves being generated at random intervals up and down this galactic arm, but the GP reports no similar occurrences anywhere else. Since the Juraian Empire occupies most of this arm, it seems logical to assume that Jurai is being targeted somehow. I was running deep scans on all of the known singularities within Jurai space when I discovered Detective Kiyone. The GP Sector office calls me daily asking for status updates."

They all knew that each of the spiral arms tended to be dominated by one species and one government. In the case of Jurai, humans started expanding and colonizing along this arm nearly 50,000 ago. In the consolidating wars that followed, Jurai emerged as the largest political structure in human space, controlling thousands of star systems and hundreds of occupied planets. The neighboring arms were controlled by other species, a pattern which replicated itself clear around the galactic spiral. The Galaxy Police, however, was less homogenous and far older than any of the local governments. Its primary mission was to offer disaster relief and assist with local law enforcement — 'controlling chaos' was how their mission statement defined it. The GP recruited officers from all over the galaxy, apportioning an even mix of locals and aliens to follow its mission and support the peace...although this last task often proved difficult, and in its zeal to remain neutral would often evacuate a combat zone until the shooting stopped. Strictly apolitical. Naturally, if the Juraian Empire was about to become a new theater of engagement, the GP wanted to be ready to yank all of its personnel until the dust settled and they knew who was in charge.

"Very prudent of them," Funaho answered levelly. She looked over at the two GP officers across the table from her. As head of Internal Security, she was quite familiar with Mihoshi's GP record, and as a matter of course had read the dossiers on all of her partners. It only took a moment to recall Kiyone's record: she had been an extremely competent officer. Such expertise could prove very useful. "So, Detective Kiyone, where are you assigned to?"

"I have no idea, Your Majesty. Princess Washu only notified them an hour ago of my rescue."

"We have guest facilities in the west wing, Detective. You would be welcome to stay here until your schedule is sorted out."

"That is very gracious, Your Majesty. Thank you."

"And this gives us a chance to get all caught up!" Mihoshi burbled.

"Yes, I can see a lot has changed..." Kiyone sighed absently. While she grudgingly admitted that she did want to chitchat with Mihoshi, the short conversation between Funaho and Washu had roused her curiosity.

Funaho, used to dealing with security types, noticed her interest. "Perhaps I can get you assigned to the local office, if only temporarily."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Actually, the suggestion was a mixed bag: working in the Imperial capitol could be a terrific assignment — but she wasn't sure if she wanted another tour with Mihoshi.

"Washu, were there any unusual properties about those gravity waves?" Misaki asked.

"Well, there was one curious property: their signature strengths were graduated, not quite the abrupt generation you normally see with singularities. Almost muted, both at origination and termination."

"Oh, like a door opening and closing?" Mihoshi suggested casually.

Washu stared at her openmouthed. "Damn, why didn't I think of that! Mihoshi, you do have your moments." With a gesture Washu summoned her shadow keyboard and began typing furiously.

"I do? What did I say?" She looked from Kiyone's confused expression to Funaho's gentle grin and back to Washu.

"Hot damn," Washu muttered through a smug smile. "Those _are_ dimensional doorways, all right. But, extremely large doorways."

"How large?" Funaho asked.

"Big enough to pass a battleship through," Washu replied. Achika burped audibly, and Misaki laughed.

"You said it, little one," Funaho smiled. Then she was lost in thought for a while, and the others kept quiet to let her ruminate. "You realize, of course, that this could be interpreted as a possible precursor to invasion?"

"Yes," Misaki replied. "We should probably inform Azusa."

Funaho nodded in agreement. "But he'd demand confirmation, and rightly so, which would take time. I think there are some precautions we should start now. Where's Tenchi?"

"I sent to him Earth for a visit, to spend some time with his family," Washu replied. Funaho gave her an appraising look, and Washu returned a subtle, seemingly casual gesture with her fingers. Funaho's reaction was nearly imperceptible, but Washu saw it — and knew that Funaho had correctly interpreted her private communication. "It's his father's birthday."

"Ah," Funaho replied softly, nodding. "Actually, that might be to our benefit. Yosho should be apprised of the situation." She looked across the table at Mihoshi and Kiyone. "Mihoshi, what's your schedule look like?"

"You've got me booked up pretty solid for the next three weeks, Lady Funaho. That's why I didn't go with Tenchi."

"I'm clearing your schedule, effective immediately. I think you need a vacation, and you should spend it with your husband."

Mihoshi beamed. "I like it already."

"This way you can also deliver a diplomatic packet to Yosho without attracting undue attention. How soon can you leave?"

"As soon as Yukinojo is replenished. Six hours at the most."

"Very good. Start packing. I'll see to your schedule, and call the GP Sector office and get Detective Kiyone assigned to us for a while. There will be a diplomatic pouch delivered to your ship before liftoff, but it will be done discreetly. Ladies, I have a bad feeling about this. Leave quietly, but make haste. I want Tenchi back here as soon as possible." She stood, effectively bringing all conversation to an end.

Mihoshi and Kiyone leaped to their feet, saluted, and bowed. Misaki gently passed Achika back to Washu and followed Funaho out of the common area.

##########

Ryoko stared out the portal, watching the stars pass. They weren't the diamond-hard lights of realspace, but the fuzzy lanterns of psuedospace. They had been traveling for nearly five days, now, though sometimes it seemed much longer. When Washu had first suggested this trip, visions of a second honeymoon had flashed through her head, and she had even laughed with Ayeka about it.

Until Washu told them the real reason: "Tenchi is starting to metamorphose again." Ryoko had cursed, and Ayeka had paled. "He doesn't know it yet. He's resisting the change, and this environment is adding to his stress."

"What's wrong with this environment?" Ayeka had asked.

"Those pointless errands your father keeps sending him on, and the long hours he spends at the university and studying. The only time he really unwinds is with us, and I'm afraid he needs a few days to relax and let this phase occur. Sadly, there is another element, as well."

"And what's that?" Ryoko had asked.

"At this point, it would not do him any good to go through another change where all the palace spies and spooks can witness the whole thing. God alone knows how it will be used against him, but you can be sure it will. Azusa would probably be first in line to exploit his circumstances."

"I'm afraid I have to concur with that," Ayeka said. She loved her father, but her husband came first. Period. "How serious is this phase liable to be?"

"I have no idea. I couldn't even predict the first one. Tsunami says this phase won't be nearly as critical as the other one was, but she agrees that he should be isolated for a while. I know he'd like to see his father and stepmother again, and he hasn't been back to Earth since their wedding. Maybe sleeping in his old room will calm him down enough to let the process run its course."

"Just what have you told him?" Ryoko asked.

"Nothing. I merely suggested that since he's on semester break, this might be a good time to visit Earth."

Ryoko and Ayeka had looked at one another and nodded. They had sworn to protect their husband, no matter what.

So Ryoko spent the long days watching, either outwards at the changing constellations, or inwards at her semi-comatose husband. And drinking lots of tea (good thing she was going back to Earth — her supply of sake had been depleted and her cache of Bavidian brandy was nearly gone; time to hit the Okayama liquor stores).

Ayeka joined her at the window. She had brought along her needlework on this trip, and had spent many of the hours silently flipping her needles in rhythmic patterns. Ryoko approved, if for no other reason than that it reduced conversations to a minimum. (Her missions with Mihoshi, though often of similar duration, were always so busy that there was never time to sit around and twiddle their thumbs. Always plans to make on the trip out, and reports to write on the trip back.) "I never get tired of the view, particularly when passing near the nebulae."

Ryoko nodded. "It can get a little boring sometimes."

"I guess I haven't traveled enough, then." She poured a cup of tea and offered it to Ryoko, who accepted it. She poured herself a cup.

"I'm worried about Tenchi. He's sleeping too much and too fitfully." Both women turned to look at the man draped across the futon. Blankets had been twisted and tossed so many ways that they were a chaotic jumble. Even across Ryo-ohki's command deck, they could see him sweating heavily.

Ayeka shrugged. "We have to trust Washu's advice on this. I must admit, I was reluctant to come along, as I haven't been feeling well lately. But I also sense that something bad is about to happen, and I wanted to be near Tenchi."

Ryoko looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Sasami has been having more precognitive dreams lately, and I've had my own premonitions."

"Is that what has been making you ill?"

"No. I'm pregnant."

"Really?" Ryoko gasped, grinning. "That's wonderful! Boy or girl?"

"Boy."

"Wow. Does Tenchi know?"

"No, I was informed just prior to departure."

"Uh, shouldn't you be telling Tenchi before anyone else?"

Ayeka slowly stirred her tea. "I remember asking Funaho once how she was able to accept my mother into her marriage. She replied that, once they had settled upon a working relationship, the two women became close friends. I was skeptical at the time, but I have since learned to appreciate that statement. Ryoko, even when we were rivals for Tenchi's affections, we still had much in common. I really didn't like you back then, but I did respect you. We have been through a great deal together since, and now that we are 'Sisters of the Serail,' I must admit that you are my closest friend. I feel that you will keep my confidences, as I will keep yours."

Ryoko was clearly touched. "Thank you, Ayeka. I never had a friend before meeting you, other than Ryo-ohki. I'm just glad that things worked out the way they did."

"Of course, having said all that, don't think I'm willing to relinquish even one minute of my time with Tenchi." She grinned and raised her cup in salute.

Ryoko returned both grin and salute. "Absolutely. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"How soon to the Sol system?"

"Three hours 'till we drop into realspace, another nine to cross the distance to Earth."

"Good."

Tenchi stirred in his sleep, drawing worried glances from his wives.

##########

"No offense, Darling, but you look like hell," Ryoko said.

"Yes, Beloved, if you open your eyes any wider you'll bleed to death," Ayeka said.

Tenchi shrugged. "If you think the outside is bad, you should try the inside. I feel exhausted." Tenchi sat on the deck next to the main portal, watching the blue crescent of Earth growing with proximity. They would be in Japanese airspace in less than an hour, and he needed to be awake and ready. He looked again at the pile of blankets on his futon and cringed. "I must have been running laps in my sleep."

"With that enhanced speed of yours, you were bruising our legs," Ayeka replied. "We moved our futons over there."

"I'm sorry," he answered sheepishly. "I didn't think my Power would manifest while I'm asleep."

"This is the first time I've seen it happen," Ryoko said. Ayeka nodded in agreement.

"The dreams are getting longer and more intense," Tenchi explained. "Maybe I should take some kind of tranquilizer."

"If Washu thought that would help, I'm sure she would have given you one by now," Ayeka replied. "I'm as confident as she is that it's all just stress related. This vacation will do you some good."

"And that means it will do us all some good," Ryoko added. "In fact, I'm looking forward to a little shopping. You wanna tag along, Ayeka?"

"Absolutely."

"Now, be a good boy and get showered and dressed, will you? You've only got about 30 minutes."

##########

The courier 'bot had arrived three days earlier, announcing the scheduled arrival of Ryo-ohki. It had been just one of several shuttles slipping unseen through the overlapping radar nets of the numerous Terran governments. Most of the denizens of planet Earth were completely ignorant of the Galaxy Academy's science station nestled quietly above the Masaki shrine in the mountains of Okayama Prefecture. Some of the Juraians present were monitoring the Terrans and their cultures, descendents of Juraian colonists thousands of years in the past; some were laboring over the Royal Tree that was semi-rooted in a pond below the shrine; others were simply transients moving personnel and cargo in and out of the station. There was a steady (though discreet) amount of traffic up and down the mountainside, but it studiously avoided the shrine itself and the Masaki family residence. Everyone onsite knew who lived at the shrine and the residence; there was modest interaction between the two groups, but it was kept to a minimum.

Crown Prince Yosho Masaki Jurai liked it that way. He had lived on the mountain for seven centuries, and he didn't like seeing its natural rhythms disturbed. He divided his time between attending to his duties as the local Shinto priest, and keeping an eye on the galactics. He had long since resumed the aged facade of Katsuhito Masaki, primarily for the benefit of the locals, but the extraterrestrials saw right through it. He was still young and healthy, a master swordsman, and heir to the throne of the Juraian Empire. He was held in high regard.

Nobuyuki Masaki, Terran son-in-law of the Crown Prince, lead a much more mundane existence. His time was spent between the architectural firm he worked at, and being with his new family. His first wife had died many years earlier, and he had raised his son under the watchful eye of his father-in-law. It had seemed an isolated life for the young Tenchi, and might have remained that way had unusual circumstances not intervened...circumstances like Ryoko, and Ayeka, and Sasami, etc. Nobuyuki had been forced to deal with a new reality, and did so reasonably successfully. When his son had finally gotten married and moved out on his own (albeit hundreds of light years away!), Nobuyuki had resigned himself to returning to a quiet and monotonous existence. Then he'd met the widow Reina, and their whirlwind courtship, and the wedding, and the mini-invasion of Juraian researchers, and...well, it was fortunate that he had learned how to live with uncertainty.

Reina Masaki brought her children, 6-year-old son Ken'ichi and four-year-old daughter Kiyoko, to the mountain expecting a peaceful, rural lifestyle. Her future husband had described the place as rather idyllic, and her frequent weekends had seemed to justify the label. Of course, that was _before_ the full import of the family's little secret had been revealed to her. She had learned to be flexible after the death of her first husband, and it had proved good training for the subsequent turn of events. Every morning she walked into the living room and faced the portrait of her stepson and his _wives_, and the knowledge that they possessed talents and skills that were totally beyond her experience. Not so for her kids; having been raised in the age of anime, they accepted it all with equanimity. They never tired of Grandpa's stories about Tenchi and the girls and their adventures. Their biggest single regret was being sworn to silence (and even they could see that no one would believe such tales anyway). They leaped for joy when they heard that Ryo-ohki was inbound.

And so it was a small group who waited on the dock outside the house, watching Ryo-ohki drifting silently from the sky in the early morning sunshine: Yosho, Nobuyuki, Reina, Ken'ichi, Kiyoko, and a small delegation from the science station. The bioship hovered above the lake, and three figures shivered into existence as Ryoko teleported Tenchi and Ayeka onto the dock.

There was a solemn moment where the two groups exchanged bows, and then all of the Masaki family members broke out laughing and smiling. Tenchi stepped forward and embraced his father and grandfather affectionately. Ayeka received hugs from the kids, who then leaped at Ryoko with wild abandon. Ayeka embraced Reina, the two women having long since recognized kindred spirits in each other. "Hey, how are the best kids on this planet, eh?" Ryoko exclaimed, setting one on each of her shoulders. There followed a flurry of chatter and gossip and teasing, while Tenchi and Yosho approached the waiting station personnel.

As a group, they bowed formally to the future rulers of the Empire.

Yosho and Tenchi returned their bows, and then there was a round of introductions, and small talk, and an invitation for Tenchi to visit their facilities. Tenchi promised he would, there was more polite conversation, and then the academy personnel beat a quiet but hasty retreat.

Ryo-ohki emitted a loud "Miya!" and Ryoko slapped her forehead theatrically. "Sorry kids," she apologized, setting them on the dock, "but I've gotta get the luggage before I do anything else. I'll be right back!" And with that, she levitated into the air and vanished. She appeared moments later carrying an assortment of suitcases and boxes. Ryo-ohki chittered, and then began the shrinking/compressing action that she used to revert to her quadruped form. She had no sooner landed on the dock before being scooped up by Kiyoko, who produced a carrot from a pocket and dangled it under the cabbit's nose. Ryo-ohki "Miya"-ed appreciatively.

"It's good to be back in Okayama," Tenchi said, returning to his family. "Springtime in the mountains..."

"You look rather worn out, Son," Nobuyuki replied. "Don't tell me they're turning you into a salaryman out there!"

"You're closer to the truth than you know, Dad. In fact, Washu was very specific about getting some rest while I'm here."

"Well, your old room is ready for you, though I wasn't really planning on _three_ of you sleeping there..."

"Not a problem!" Ryoko said, grinning wickedly. "We've found a way to stack up vertically!"

"Oh, Ryoko..." Ayeka sighed.

"That's my son!" Nobuyuki beamed. Tenchi was too tired to blush.

##########

"That didn't take long," Ryoko said, materializing in the dining room.

"So quickly...maybe he is finally relaxing," Ayeka replied.

"I no sooner threw a blanket over him than he was snoring. I left Ryo-ohki with him." Ryoko sat next to Ayeka at the table.

"Well, the snoring is a good sign."

"What is going on, Little Sister?" Yosho asked. He nodded to Reina, who was distributing cups of steaming tea.

"Is something wrong with my son?" Nobuyuki asked.

"Er, we really aren't supposed to say anything..." Ryoko began.

"Washu thinks he's about to enter another change. He's been under such a lot of stress, lately, that he's resisting the process. He has not slept well in two or three weeks. She thought a few days here would relax him enough to allow the process to begin."

"A change?" Reina asked. "Into what?"

Yosho explained briefly about Tenchi's Power attributes, and their incremental expansions.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, before Nobuyuki cleared his throat. "So, how is that little grand-daughter of mine?"

"Growing like a weed," Ryoko grinned.

"Yes, her hair is turning the same shade of red as Washu's, though she has Tenchi's eyes," Ayeka added.

"What other attributes has she inherited from her father?" Yosho asked.

"Washu says it's too early to tell for sure, but the indications are promising," Ayeka answered. "Sasami hasn't started manifesting her Power attributes yet, but it should happen in the next couple of years. There's no reason to assume Achika won't follow the same pattern."

"How is Sasami?" Reina asked.

"Taller," Ryoko replied. "And playing more practical jokes than ever. Although of late she has been targeting her tutors, rather than us."

"I like what you've done to your hair," Reina said to Ayeka.

"This is my natural color," Ayeka said, lifting one of her azure-colored ponytails. "It looks more like my mother's and Sasami's now. I grew tired of the darker tint some months ago."

"Does Tenchi like it?" Ayeka nodded, smiling. Reina turned to Ryoko. "And how about you, Dear? How are you doing?"

"I'm doing quite well," Ryoko replied. "Never better, in fact. I have a husband, and a family, and a home, and a career. I couldn't ask for anything more." She looked sidelong at Ayeka, who returned the glance. Yosho noticed the exchange.

"Are you sure it's not too sedate a lifestyle for you?" he asked.

"Your mother keeps me from getting bored. She sends me out on assignments with Mihoshi, and those are anything but dull. Guarding Tenchi on his various errands is almost a relief."

"And affairs of state keep me occupied," Ayeka said. "Since Tenchi is often away from the capitol, I stand in for him at council meetings and parliamentary sessions. I never really realized just how full my father's calendar is." She sipped her tea, looking at her older brother. "Tell me, Yosho, when will Funaho be ready to fly?"

"Not for another eighteen months at least. The botanists say that there has been tremendous progress, but the process cannot be rushed. So, I remain here for the foreseeable future. But I trust you're doing an admirable job filling my seat at all those meetings. You always did appreciate them more than I."

Ayeka nodded, confirming the statement.

"So: what's on today's agenda?" Ryoko asked.

"Well, I took a couple of days of vacation, once I knew you were coming. We thought we'd leave it up to you kids to decide," Nobuyuki replied. "Was there something special you had in mind?"

Ryoko and an Ayeka exchanged grins, and said in unison: "Shopping!"

"What about Tenchi?" Reina asked.

Ryoko shrugged. "He'll sleep for several hours, and he won't need us hovering over him the whole time."

"And we did inform him of our intentions on the voyage here," Ayeka added. "If he wakes up early, he can spend his time just walking about and resetting his biorhythms. It will do him some good."

"Are you coming with us, Reina?"

"Go ahead, Dear," Nobuyuki said. "I'll watch the little ones."

"Well..." Reina paused, considering. "Ok." A big smile spread across her face.

##########

The GP Cruiser Yukinojo slipped into psuedospace after receiving its clearance from the Juraian Space Traffic Control Authority. With five days of confinement to look forward to, the two passengers addressed the lists of unpacking and maintenance tasks that awaited them.

Kiyone looked around Mihoshi's cabin in amazement. "Mihoshi — this is so clean! Not like your quarters on the old Yagami."

Mihoshi giggled. "Yes, Tenchi showed me how to organize the clutter, and then made me promise to clean it once a week."

Kiyone grinned and shook her head. She sat on Mihoshi's bed and looked at the graphic mounted on the opposite bulkhead. Tenchi and Mihoshi, shoulder-to-shoulder, smiling to each other as much as to the photographer. "I envy you, Mihoshi. He's quite a catch."

"Thanks, Kiyone. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't met him." She sat next to her friend and partner, staring at the photograph with her clear, blue eyes. "It was pretty tough after you disappeared. I went into a long slump; I had a string of partners and cases which all ended disastrously. No matter how hard I tried to stay positive about it, everything kept going wrong. I got a terrible reputation. All sorts of comments were whispered behind my back, just nasty things. It was awful."

"What were they saying?"

"They called me the 'Luck Vampire,' that I always solved my cases by siphoning all the luck from my partner, that my career was made at my partner's expense." She looked sidelong at Kiyone, and Kiyone realized she had often made similar comments herself. She swallowed silently. "They called me 'bubblehead' and said that if I let my hair down, I'd lose my memory. That the only reason I was allowed to stay in the GP was because of my grandfather. Stupid, spiteful things like that. I was convinced I was jinxed. Even Kagato had heard the rumors, damn him." She drifted into silence.

"Then what happened?" Kiyone prompted.

"I finally hit rock bottom when Yukinojo ejected me to keep me from being pulled into a subspace pocket that I had blithely ignored...and I was rescued by a 17-year-old boy." She nodded at the photograph. "Little did I know at that moment that I had been saved by the one person in the galaxy so powerful that he couldn't be harmed by my 'talents'. It didn't take very long to fall for him like a ton of bricks." She sighed, smiling at her memories. "The competition for him was pretty stiff: Ryoko and Ayeka were so possessive of him that they literally fought for his attention (the house was repaired any number of times). And there was always Washu in the background, and Sasami..." She stood up, walking over to touch the portrait. "I didn't think he noticed me. Or cared. The happiest day of my life was when he proposed to us. He started with Ryoko, and then Ayeka, and then Sasami...and I was thinking the whole time that I would be left out, that I should probably go pack. And then he asked _me_, too! God, I was so excited I almost wet my pants." She giggled, and Kiyone grinned. "I haven't had a bad day since."

"So, just what have you been doing?"

"Lady Funaho got me attached to her security office. She sends me and Ryoko out on intelligence-gathering missions, or fleet security evaluations. Pretty exciting stuff, really. I go in the front door in my usual spectacular fashion, while Ryoko sneaks in the back door. Some of our missions get pretty wild. We even took Tenchi along once, although Ayeka got really angry when she found out." Mihoshi fiddled idly with her wedding ring. "The question now is, what are _you_ going to do? I doubt that you want to be stuck with me again, so between Lady Funaho and I we can probably get you posted anywhere you want to go."

"I honestly don't know, Mihoshi. I feel so out of place now. That three-year-long bite out of my career may be terminal. I haven't aged a day, but the general feeling seems to be that I've been on the shelf, getting rusty and lax. I really love the GP...but maybe I should consider other options."

"Well, let me know what you want to do. I'll help any way that I can."

"Thanks, Mihoshi."

##########

The Juraian admiralty had been warned about possible dimensional doorways appearing suddenly, but nobody expected one to appear in the central star system. Approximately four million miles from the system primary, out between the orbits of the fourth and fifth planets, a massive ring shimmered into existence. Its arrival was announced by gravity waves and photon spillage, and a squadron of cruisers and destroyers was immediately dispatched to investigate...and to intercept whatever might emerge.

Like most such doorways, it was black and completely featureless, other than the faint glow of its verge. No background stars were visible through the portal, and orientation of the doorway meant nothing without knowing the point of origin. It hung silent and menacing for nearly two hours before the first vessel appeared. The starship was a lumpy, ungainly-looking structure, covered with the abundant sensors and weapons' blisters that denoted a combat vessel. It was small, and easily matched by the Juraian reception committee. It made no overt actions, just advanced slowly away from the doorway for a thousand klicks and stopped. It sat quietly and waited, which gave the Home Fleet a chance to identify it.

"It's a K'vimm corvette," Captain Shalareron reported to Emperor Azusa. The captain was Azusa's current naval attaché, wearing the shoulder cords of his office, and presently walking a respectful distance behind the Emperor as he strode across the Palace grounds. Empress Misaki kept pace with her husband, occasionally glancing at his profile in an attempt to discern his mood. Azusa was seldom a jolly man, and when distracted or engulfed by events, he cloaked himself in an unreadable dour facade. Today was no exception.

"Who are the K'vimm?" Azusa growled.

"One of the three dominant species in the galactic arm east of us, Your Majesty. They are considered insectoid, with a history of random and aggressive behavior. They rarely venture beyond their borders without good cause."

"So what brings them this far into Jurai space?"

"Unknown, Your Majesty. The corvette appears to be waiting for some action to take place, possibly a similar gesture on our part."

Azusa led them to the airfield, where his security guard was waiting for him: seven troopers decked out in battle armor and assault rifles, and a similarly equipped officer. The officer saluted smartly upon their approach. Misaki had summoned them, knowing that her husband would soon transport himself to his Royal Tree, knowing she would be sent to her own vessel. Protocol (and common sense) demanded that he have an escort.

"Well, why don't you proceed with this 'gesture' then?"

"We were waiting for your permission, Your Majesty. Standing orders prohibit any first contact scenarios without the express consent of the monarchy."

Azusa waved aside the objection. "Get it done, Captain. Let's hear what they want."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Shalareron produced a personal terminal and began speaking quietly into it. At the same time, the security officer produced a similar device and spoke into it. In seconds, the squad, Shalareron, and the Emperor flickered and vanished. Misaki sighed; she would have preferred to accompany her husband, but she had lost that argument so many times it wasn't worth raising any longer. She produced her own terminal and issued instructions.

The Corral was a Lagrangian point of gravitational balance between the planet and its moons. This was the gathering place of the Royal Trees, feeding on sunlight and patiently waiting for interesting events to unfold among the humans. Three of the five first-generation trees were floating quietly in the Corral: the largest and most powerful being Kirito, whose latest Companion (of only 800 years) was the Emperor. She was accompanied by her peers: Empress Funaho's Companion Mizuho and Empress Misaki's Companion Karin (each also bonded less than 1000 years). The other two first-generation trees were many light years away: Yosho's Companion Funaho was still on Earth, and Mizunagi and her Companion Fleet Admiral Kasumi Jurai were stationed on the frontier. Of the dozen second-generation Trees, only Ayeka's Companion Ryu-oh was present (she was regenerating, having been critically damaged on her last voyage to Earth). The Sentinels — five third-generation and five fourth-generation trees — floated nearby.

The grandest of the Royal Trees was Kirito, The Heavens Tree, the Flying Palace. The vessel was immense, and was large enough to carry hundreds of passengers in luxury, hundreds of servants to pamper the guests, and hundreds of crew to attend to the ship's needs. Azusa schemed to spend as much time aboard as he could finagle, commanding in regal isolation from his elevated throne. The view out the immense portals was spectacular, and he could see the trees moving into formation with Kirito — except Mizuho and Ryu-oh. He tossed the obvious question to the crowd of courtiers at the bottom of the steps. Once again, Shalareron answered. "Empress Funaho is looking into reports of other doorways appearing throughout the Empire, and will not be joining us. Princess Ayeka is presently on Earth with Prince Tenchi." Left unspoken was the simple fact that neither Tree would budge from the Corral without her Companion aboard. Only one Royal Tree had the inclination to act independently, and did so frequently.

As if reading his mind, Shalareron added, "Tsunami's location is unknown, although Princess Sasami may have knowledge of her whereabouts."

Azusa grumbled, but maintained his composure. "Very well, set a course for the dimensional doorway. Let's meet this K'vimm representative."

Kirito ponderously rumbled to life, her gravitic 'legs' propelling her out of the Corral and into interplanetary space. Karin paced the flagship as the Sentinels formed a ring around them, and an escort of heavy cruisers and destroyers broke orbit from the Imperial naval base on the outer moon.

##########

"Dinner time? Geez, I didn't mean to sleep the whole day away."

"Well, look who's awake!" Nobuyuki exclaimed.

Tenchi stood in the doorway, yawning. The bags under his eyes had dwindled, and his gaze appeared alert. "Yeah, I really needed that nap. I feel much better."

Ayeka and Ryoko swapped relieved smiles. They made room for him at the table, in his old seat between them.

"I'm glad to see you up and around," Reina began, setting a place for him.

"This is excellent," Ryoko said. "Here, Tenchi, try a little of this."

Tenchi did, and nodded appreciatively. "She's right, Reina. This taste's great."

"Thank you," Reina said, smiling.

"You look refreshed, Beloved," Ayeka said.

"Actually, I feel pretty good. Restless, in fact."

"Tenchi, have you continued to practice?" Yosho asked.

Tenchi nodded. "I'm afraid your sensei had passed away during your absence, but his oldest daughter has assumed his position as head of the school. Ryoko and I have been studying with her."

"I'm guessing we've been something of a challenge for her," Ryoko added. "Still, she is one creative lady, and a terrific teacher."

"Grandpa has started teaching me the sword, too!" Ken'ichi exclaimed. "He said you were my age when you started learning."

"That's right, I was." Tenchi stopped eating for a moment, recalling memories. "You should pay close attention to what he says, because there is no better teacher anywhere."

"I don't see much practical use for it," Reina said quietly.

"Aw, Mom, it's fun. And it's great exercise."

"It is impossible to foresee the future accurately," Yosho said. "Such skills may prove very useful in due time."

"Maybe I could go to Jurai with Tenchi!"

"Maybe." Tenchi saw the look on his mother's face. "But that kind of decision is many years in the future. It will depend on a lot of things, including how well you do in school."

Before Ken'ichi could pursue the thread any further, Yosho added: "All this talk of swordplay. Perhaps you'd like to visit the practice area after dinner, and show an old man what you've learned."

Tenchi, Ryoko, and Ayeka laughed, both at the 'old man' reference, and at more unbidden memories.

"Sure, Grandpa, I'd love to."

"Count me in," Ryoko said.

##########

Misaki sat in her command chair, brooding. Her staff recognized her pensive mood and found excuses to be elsewhere, so she had the bridge of Karin to herself. She watched Kirito sailing majestically alongside, her many lights both festive and harsh.

Which rather matched her husband's personality, she decided.

There was distance growing between the principles of the Imperial Family, and had been for a long time. The intimacy between Azusa and his wives had been allowed to wither over time. The fire of their early years, their unified sense of purpose, appeared to have cooled and gone out. She slept alone most of the time, as Azusa's visits became rarer...a condition also shared by Funaho. And Misaki had to face the fact that Azusa rarely slept alone (Funaho's operatives had more than enough evidence of his promiscuity — and they were very efficient in dealing with any loose ends). The truth hurt, but not as much as she thought it might.

She loved her husband, but she was no longer in love with him.

She had considered playing the same games he did, seeking comfort in the arms of paramours, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Her loyalty ran too deep. She had confided her fears to Funaho, who had voiced similar sentiments. They had taken oaths and would stand by them. But neither had the answer to the root question: how do you keep the romance alive in a marriage measured in centuries? Others had found the means (her own parents, for instance), so what had fractured their own union? She didn't think it had anything to do with its polygamous structure, but she couldn't prove it. The only thing she knew for certain was that she was increasingly lonely, and did not relish the thought of facing the coming centuries in an empty bed. Neither divorce nor perfidy were acceptable, since the scandal would bring shame upon their House, but the current situation was becoming equally unacceptable.

Funaho had found an avenue of escape in her duties, an option not open to Misaki. As head of the royal bodyguards, Misaki faced her husband on a daily basis. So she would have to seek another venue. There had been a time when she had lavished her attentions and affections upon her daughters. But now those same daughters were becoming independent and distant, as children inevitably do. She had experienced severe misgivings when Ayeka had married into Tenchi's growing household, but her daughter's happiness was plainly evident. And Sasami remained fervently focused upon joining her older sister. She wondered idly if Tenchi would one day succumb to the temptations that had corrupted Azusa, and leave her little girls sad and abandoned as well. But that scenario just didn't fit — Tenchi was not flamboyant and prevaricating, but stalwart and dependable. Perhaps Azusa perceived the dichotomy as well, and added that to his list of reasons to resent his great-grandson.

For the foreseeable future, at least, House Jurai would not know peace.

##########

Azusa, too, was contemplating his great-grandson.

The boy's popularity was growing by leaps and bounds, and his Power attributes were growing beyond 'formidable' to 'legendary.' Accession to the throne was determined by fitness — the strongest ruled. He had wrested the crown from his father, as his father had before him, and his father. That his own son was too weak to make the attempt was galling; that none of his children was really strong enough to face him was a painful disappointment. He had heard that his granddaughter had possessed spirit and strength, and he regretted the lost opportunity. But as to his great-grandson...

Tenchi could vanquish him at any time. Courage and spirit and Power in abundance — and the boy simply dismissed the opportunity as irrelevant. Which, in essence, deemed his great-grandfather irrelevant.

Azusa considered himself a warrior of high renown. To be rejected as unworthy of a Challenge was the foulest of insults. The problem was that the boy was right: he could not provide a worthy struggle. Having been top dog for so long, being overshadowed so _easily_ was humiliating. It might have been more tolerable if the boy affected an arrogant and swaggering demeanor — nobody liked a bully, after all — but he was polite, sensitive, intense...in short, chivalrous.

The situation placed his own future is doubt. What action or decision of his would convince the boy to issue the Challenge? When would Tenchi's native ambition get the better of him, and push him to seek the crown? Should Azusa moderate his policies to meet the boy's approval, and thus remain on the throne, or throw caution to the winds and rule as he saw fit? The latter option was his first choice, but there still remained many tasks to accomplish before being banished into retirement/obscurity. He had not slept well in two years.

Although sleeping was not always the activity of choice. He studied the collection of beautiful women milling about the chamber. He had bedded many of them, and would pursue the remainder when it suited him. He allowed a grudging smile to touch his face: he would give Tenchi credit in his choice of women. At least one family trait carried true to form.

##########

Tenchi stood on the deck, wrapped in a bathrobe against the chill spring breeze, looking at the stars but not really seeing them. The dreams had come again: whether confined in a box, or a ball, or an amorphous cage, he was trapped and couldn't get out. No matter how much he shouted and pounded on the walls, he could not get free. As usual, he awakened sweating and gasping. As quietly as he could, he'd donned his bathrobe, and then slipped out to the deck to calm down.

Practically every time he slept, the dreams haunted him. He didn't know how much longer this could continue.

A pair of feminine hands appeared out of the darkness and wrapped around him, and he felt breasts pressed into his back. He saw shadowy cyan hair out of the corner of his eye, and felt a chin sink softly into his shoulder. "Bad dreams again, huh?" Ryoko asked.

"Yeah," Tenchi answered. No use trying to hide the obvious. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"No," she lied, trying to muffle a yawn. "I was just checking on you. It's a habit in that bedroom." There had been a time, once, when she had hovered over him all through the night, just watching him sleep, afraid that something might happen to him.

"Have you talked to Washu about your dreams?"

"Yes," he replied. "She doesn't think they're precognitive, but that they reflect something I'm worried about. In fact, she was the one who suggested I come back here for Dad's birthday, to take my mind off of the university, and the palace, and my duties." Tenchi sighed, absently massaging Ryoko's arms. "I don't think it's helped much."

They stood locked together for a while, lost in their own thoughts.

"Aren't you getting cold out here?" she asked, feeling him shiver. She, of course, was impervious to the temperature. "Come on, let's go back to bed."

Tenchi allowed himself to be dragged back into the house, shutting the sliding door behind them. He stood by the bed and removed his bathrobe, standing naked in the starlight from the windows. He gently lifted the covers and climbed in next to Ayeka, trying not to disturb her. She was facing the wall, as naked as he was, with the covers pulled tightly around her. He had just settled onto his pillow when she said quite clearly, "The next time you two decide to go out for a moonlight stroll, would you _please_ close that door tightly? There's a considerable draught."

"I'm sorry," Tenchi sighed. Ryoko slipped under the covers on his other side, as naked as her husband, while Ayeka rolled over to face them. He lay on his back and spread his arms, as both of his wives snuggled up to his ribs. He could smell their hair as they put their heads on his chest, and he felt each of them drape a leg over his knees. "Hey, watch the extremities," he growled. They giggled back at him. "You know, I don't remember this bed being so cramped before."

"I don't think it's cramped," Ayeka replied.

"Me, neither," Ryoko added.

"Miya," Ryo-ohki chirped from the foot of the bed.

Tenchi started chuckling.

"What's so funny?" Ryoko asked.

"What I do remember is the first few weeks after you two came here, and how I used to lay here and fantasize about you both."

"You could have done something about it, you know," Ryoko said.

"Think of all the grief you could have prevented," Ayeka added.

"Do either of you have any idea how scared of you I was? I'd never met a Power adept before, let alone _two_ Power adepts, let alone two _beautiful_ Power adepts. I didn't know which one of you was going to kill me first, but I was pretty sure my days were numbered."

"As a bachelor, anyway," Ryoko replied. She drew circles around his navel with her fingertip.

"If you're trying to start something," Tenchi warned her, "I should point out that I'm really too tired."

"As am I," Ayeka added.

"You both ought to be," Ryoko replied, her grin evident in her voice.

"If you find that so amusing, perhaps you can explain to the children in the morning just exactly why the three of us were making so much noise in here," Ayeka said.

Tenchi stiffened, and both women felt him blush. "Oh, geez."

"No problem," Ryoko replied. "I'll even wash the sheets, if that will make you feel better."

"Thank you, Ryoko, that is very considerate," Ayeka yawned. Tenchi merely groaned.

There was a long silence, broken finally by Tenchi on the verge of falling asleep. "I love you ladies." He got a kiss in return from each of them.

Ayeka waited for his breathing to deepen into a slow, regular rhythm, before whispering, "Well?"

"Washu was right," Ryoko whispered back. "It's happening again."

"Our poor Tenchi."

"You haven't told him yet, have you?"

"No, I just couldn't, not with this problem worrying him so much."

"It might actually help him take his mind off this problem," Ryoko prompted. "A little good news can go a long way."

"You have a valid point, Ryoko. I will reconsider the matter."

##########

Ayeka, Ryoko, and Tenchi followed Yosho into the clearing that cradled The Holy Tree of Masaki Shrine. It had changed dramatically over the last two years. The pond that had once sheltered the little isle in its center was only half as deep now. There were weatherproof shelters constructed all along the original waterline, and many sprouted cables that snaked into the water like tentacles. Juraian botanists busied themselves with monitors and equipment attached to Funaho's exposed surfaces. Hoverbarges drifted over portions of the pond, with mounted sensors pointing into its depths. A radio blared from somewhere, playing music from one of the popular Tokyo stations.

Funaho had changed, too. The tree had once resembled a bristlecone pine, whose roots seemed to grip the ground firmly before vanishing into the pond. Being a young tree, it was densely clad with non-terrestrial leaves, sweating sap in the sunshine that filled the air with resinous scents. It had sat long enough that gravity had begun to sculpt its limbs into beautiful and distinctive shapes, and youth and vitality had radiated from its corrugated skin. But now its roots were withdrawing from the muck of the ponds' bottom, coiling slowly back into the sunlight and the wind. Its trunk had nearly tripled in diameter, and its canopy was slowly shrinking and condensing, giving the tree a passing resemblance to a sea anemone. A complex pattern could be discerned by correlating limbs and roots, as the tree metamorphosed slowly back to its original shape.

Ryo-ohki had inflicted severe combat damage upon Funaho, who had been forced to revert to a more primitive state to seek sustenance from the soil. Consequently, the tree had been dormant for seven centuries, finally rising to a lethargic wakened state with the revival of Ryo-ohki and the appearance of Ryu-oh. Now, Funaho was fully awake and aware, and eagerly co-operating with the team of scientists restoring it to full functionality.

Funaho was typical of Royal Trees: for the bulk of her juvenile years, she had maintained the standard configuration (i.e., "ground-bound and roots-down"). Later, she was moved to a custom-grown habitat module, where she had completed the conversion to arboreal astronaut. And where she was presented to Crown Prince Yosho, whom she had accepted as her human symbiont. Where Funaho was atypical of other Royal Trees was in her size and Power manifestations. She was a first-generation tree, and as such she was capable of projecting three Lighthawk Wings, and could manipulate these in both offensive and defensive dispositions. Nothing in the Juraian navy could match her or her peers for versatility and efficiency. Later generation trees were less capable of such brute force, but the navy was happy to have them: self-sustaining, self-repairing, wide-ranging, and requiring small crews. They preferred to bond with individual humans, and winning the command of such a vessel (and the cooperation of the tree herself) was considered the ultimate goal of every officer in the fleet. To the knowledge of the admiralty, and the reassurance of the Galaxy Police, there was simply nothing like them anywhere in the galaxy. The Jewels of the Juraian Crown.

The botanists nursing the invalid Funaho were duplicating her original maturation process...to a point. Many of the later adaptations were already in place, so it was more a question of healing rather than growing. She would soon be ready for zero gravity, and in the planning stage was a dome that would completely cover the pond. Once erected (and camouflaged from the locals) she would begin her final resurrection. She would probably look nothing like her original incarnation. Funaho was looking forward to it — as was Yosho, when he cared to admit it.

Yosho led them onto a railed gantry that had been extended out over the rocks and roots. He walked up to the side of the tree and placed a hand gently on her bark, communicating silently through their shared mental link. Funaho returned the greeting with a cascade of coherent beams and trilling notes from the branches above him. Yosho stood thus for a moment, before stepping aside.

"Hello, old friend," Ayeka said, placing her hand as Yosho had. She was treated to a similar display of lights and sounds, which conveyed a warm welcome to The Companion's half-sister. "You look so different now, it's amazing."

Ryoko stepped in front of the Tree, bowing slightly. The greeting she received was more reserved, polite and respectful. Even though they had once been enemies, they both knew that without Ryoko's gems Yosho would have long since died, and Funaho would have been permanently stranded. "It's okay, Funaho, I don't expect us to be friends — but just remember: we're on the same side now." Ryo-ohki chittered similar sentiments from her place on Ryoko's shoulder.

And then Tenchi stepped up to the tree, and the reception he got was nearly blinding. As bright as spotlights, the beams that danced and examined the Juraian Prince were accompanied by musical tremors of approbation and homage. Ryoko leaned over and whispered to Ayeka, "Geez, he gets that treatment from everybody — even the plants!" Ayeka shrugged, and whispered back, "That's our Tenchi."

Tenchi remained still for several moments, apparently communicating with Funaho. He touched the barklike skin, watching the fleeting shadows cast by the tree's coherent flashes. Then he turned and studied his family. "What was it like that day on Jurai? All three of you were there."

They all knew which day he meant.

"It's been over 700 years, Tenchi," Ryoko replied. "I don't remember all of the details. I don't really want to — I was enslaved most of time, and there was so much destruction..."

"I'm not asking you to relive it, just recall it. Sometimes valuable lessons can be learned from such experiences."

"Nothing valuable can be learned from that," Ryoko responded sullenly, crossing her arms and looking away.

"I disagree, Ryoko," Yosho said quietly. "If nothing else, consider the military implications. I'm quite sure the Juraian admiralty did a lot of soul searching and reorganizing afterwards. That can only make them stronger."

"Who'd be stupid enough to attack Homeworld?"

"You'd be surprised. Peace and prosperity depend upon strength and vigilance; and Jurai has many enemies, human and otherwise. The empire will not last forever." Yosho relaxed against the railing and bowed his head. "I remember that day vividly, even after 700 years. My mother and father were away on a diplomatic mission, and the first- and second-generation Royal Trees had accompanied the bulk of the home fleet on maneuvers. Primary defense rested with the few third- and fourth-generation trees that comprised the Sentinel squadron. The Sentinels were considered a sufficient force to deal with any of the expected threats — and Kagato was not on that list. I was en-route home from the Galaxy Academy aboard Funaho when we started receiving reports about an attack on Homeworld. By the time we dropped into realspace, you had damaged or destroyed the Sentinels, as well as the Imperial navy squadron and orbiting fortresses."

"Yeah, Kagato wouldn't settle for anything less than a first-generation tree. In fact, what he really wanted was Ouke No Ki, the First Tree of Jurai."

"Tsunami," Ayeka whispered.

"Tsunami," Ryoko echoed. "He was convinced she was housed somewhere on the palace grounds, probably in the arboretum where the Sentinels were cultivated. It was after eliminating the defense forces that I realized Kagato's intentions, and I tried to run away. And that's when Kagato reached out and locked my mind in an iron vise. He made me leave Ryo-ohki and attack the palace. I couldn't do anything afterwards but watch, as he casually torched whole city blocks just to divert emergency services away from the palace, and summoned demons to attack the palace guards. I was screaming the whole time, but it was his laughter that spilled from my lips."

"I remember running frantically to the airfield," Ayeka said, "summoning Ryu-oh to come and get me, so we could defend our home."

"It wouldn't have done any good, Ayeka," Ryoko whispered. "Ryu-oh is a second-generation tree, and back then she was still immature. She might have been able to hold her own against Ryo-ohki, but I had all three gems. And you wouldn't have been fighting me, you'd have been fighting Kagato." Ryoko shuddered.

"I know," Ayeka said, placing a hand on Ryoko's shoulder. "But I would have tried anyway."

"That's when I finally entered orbit," Yosho added. "I saw Ryoko heading for the arboretum, so I transported down to confront her while Funaho and Ryo-ohki started dueling."

"That was really the turning point," Ryoko replied. "Funaho is a first-generation ship, more than Ryo-ohki could handle alone. Kagato gave up and I escaped aboard Ryo-ohki."

"And I pursued you," Yosho said. "All the way here to Earth."

"The very saddest part of it all is that Tsunami wasn't even on Jurai," Ayeka said. "She hasn't touched a planet's surface in millennia. She was in contact with the saplings in the nursery and the juveniles in the arboretum, and she directed Sasami's rescue and regeneration. Had she been physically present, she would have intervened directly."

"And where was Kagato?" Yosho asked.

"Hiding in Jurai's Oort cloud, pulling the strings like a master puppeteer. He had every intention of following us, but he got a little distracted by the Imperial navy just then." Ryoko smiled grimly. "They chased his ass for a thousand parsecs — so he was too preoccupied to keep track of us."

"Fortunately."

"Yeah, but he found us eventually, didn't he?"

"And that was his final mistake," Tenchi said. They all turned to look at him, having forgotten he was even there. "This is the first time any of you have discussed this, isn't it?" He received slow nods from them. "Tell me, doesn't it feel better to get it off your chests?"

They each looked at him in amazement, realizing the simple truth of the statement.

##########

Yosho entered the Masaki house and removed his sandals. The morning sun glittered on the dew-dappled grass behind him, and the breeze contained invigorating scents and promises. Ayeka and Ryoko were just descending the stairs.

"Good morning, Yosho," Ayeka said. Ryoko simply nodded.

Yosho returned the greeting. "Where is your husband?"

"Still asleep." Ayeka chewed her lip nervously, which Yosho couldn't fail to notice.

"Is there a problem?"

"Well...yes, there may be. He did not respond when we tried to wake him. It is unlike him."

"Should I examine him?"

"Thank you, brother, that would be comforting." Ayeka turned and started back up the stairs, followed by Yosho. Ryoko simply teleported directly to their room.

Tenchi still occupied the center of the bed, but rather than the loose-jointed posture of normal sleep, all his limbs appeared rigid. Even his brow seemed tense and constricted. Ryoko pulled the blanket up to his shoulders, to keep him warm and cover his nakedness. Ayeka and Yosho entered moments later.

Yosho sat on the edge of the bed, checking Tenchi's fingers, pupils, rate of breathing, and other signs of his condition. "Ryoko, would you close the blinds, please? Ayeka, would you extinguish the lights?" Once the room had been shuttered, Yosho cupped his hands over Tenchi's forehead and peeked between the fingers. "Just as I thought. Take a look, ladies."

Ayeka leaned forward and stared intently through a small gap Yosho opened between his hands. "His Emblem is glowing! But it's so faint..."

Yosho nodded. "Was it visible last night?"

"No," Ryoko replied, looking between Yosho's hands. "We'd have noticed." Ayeka nodded in agreement.

"Did you three indulge in any, eh, 'conjugal exercises' last night?"

"Yes," Ayeka said, blushing modestly.

"And the night before," Ryoko grinned.

"Well, my congratulations, then. Between returning here," his gesture swept the room, "and your, eh, 'tranquilizing ministrations,' you have succeeded in relaxing him enough to let the process begin."

"Well, he did fall asleep with a smile on his face, "Ayeka said.

"So did we," Ryoko added. Ayeka blushed again.

"At any rate," Yosho drawled, rising, "since we don't know what will happen next, I would advise you ladies to put some clothes on him. I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

Both wives nodded.

##########

Empress Misaki was getting tired of waiting. She had been staring at the lone K'vimm vessel for three days, and staring at the Kirito for three days. The activities aboard the former were a total mystery, the activities aboard the latter were painfully obvious. She had not been allowed to join her husband since they established this position, on the grounds that, "Anything could happen at any time, and we should be able to react instantly!" Misaki figured the truth had more to do with whatever mistress he was currently entertaining.

She sighed. Funaho's spies aboard the flagship would be very busy.

What actually amazed her was the fact that the dimensional doorway was still open. Such constructions had voracious appetites for energy, and the fact that this one was so large and had been kept open so long spoke volumes about the commitment and resources of the K'vimm. One of the cruisers had repeatedly launched probes into the doorway, but they had been destroyed within fractions of a second after appearing on the far side. So far, the K'vimm were keeping their secrets effectively.

She reached a decision. One press of a button on her command seat's armrest and the face of the Kirito's communications officer appeared on a monitor. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"I wish to speak to the Emperor."

"He is in conference, Your Majesty, and left explicit orders not to be disturbed unless it is an emergency." Misaki translated the message into realspeak: 'I'm presently screwing a voluptuous young opportunist, and will execute whoever interferes.'

"Well, please inform His Majesty that I am tired of waiting on some intelligent insect to make the first move. I'm taking Karin over to examine that ship. And, given a chance, I will board it."

"But, Your Majesty, the Emperor left strict instructions — "

"Yes, yes, Commander, I recall his orders quite clearly. And since this exchange is being recorded, you can play it back for him later. Then he can see that it was his impatient wife who overruled his commands, and we can discuss it in private." Misaki terminated the communication. Karin's key was shaped like a comb, similar to Ryo-oh's key that Ayeka wore as a tiara, and she absently tugged at it as she sent a query to her lifelong Companion. It took only a second to explain her desires. Karin responded immediately, her gravitic drives causing the entire vessel to vibrate gently. The Royal Tree crept away from Kirito, and Misaki breathed a sigh of relief to be finally _doing something_.

She studied the K'vimm vessel in the monitor. That it was bait was obvious. But what kind of teeth would the trap contain? And why hadn't any of the other curious Navy elements triggered a reaction? Well, she would know soon enough. However, prudence recommended a few precautions. She made the suggestion to Karin, who complied willingly: she deployed the Lighthawk Wings, as well as some lower-level defensive shields, and extended the barrels of her secondary batteries.

Misaki felt much better, now that they were armored, and their weapons were coming online.

Karin closed to within one kilometer of the vessel, before the first movement was detected. "Part of the ship's sensor array is repositioning," one of the Bridge officers announced.

"Put it on the monitors," Misaki commanded. Two video panes appeared in the air beside her, one showing a camera image and the other showing a computed schematic. Both showed movement, as the antenna array at the bow of the vessel was moving. They appeared to be centering upon the approaching Karin. "How odd. The damn things look like moth antennae, don't they?"

"I'm starting to see some changes in baseline energy readings, Your Majesty," said another officer.

"How strong?"

"Low-level, but increasing in frequency. Looks like we're the invitation it's been waiting for."

Misaki nodded her agreement...not that it made any sense. But then, that's why the Monarchy had put such restrictions on first contact scenarios. Wars had been started in the past over misinterpreted actions. She urged caution of Karin, and repeated the request to her bridge staff.

"Range now 500 meters." She directed Karin to stop and hold this position.

"Energy output increasing in intensity and frequency." She directed Karin to target the ship.

"We're being scanned." She directed all available power into Karin's secondary shields.

The K'vimm ship detonated. Gouts of flame roiled outward in a globular blossom, spraying metal and radiation into the interplanetary depths. Fragments and debris impacted Karin's wings and ricocheted harmlessly, and radiation pattered across her secondary shields like wind-blown rain. Karin shrugged off the explosion with no damage.

Misaki was just imagining the Imperial lecture she was going to get, when: "Sensors show an object still occupying those coordinates. It appears to be some kind of crystal. And it's emitting a Power signature."

Misaki's instincts screamed a warning, and Karin reacted instantly — she jumped into psuedospace.

Misaki felt, rather than heard, Karin's exertions. They had been too far into the gravity well to jump safely, and now the Royal Tree was straining to climb back out. With a nauseating surge of disorientation, the tree ship dropped back into realspace several light seconds away. Just far enough away to witness what was transpiring at the dimensional doorway.

A globe of force could be sensed expanding outwards and away from the crystal object. It was directed at the formation centered around Kirito. Lighthawk Wings could be seen materializing in front of the Treeships, while the steel vessels were hastily erecting conventional shields.

Misaki was not paying much attention, as she was comforting her distraught Companion. But her staff was observing and recording. And cursing and swearing, which drew her attention back to exterior activities.

"It's some kind of Power-dampening field, and it's aimed at the Trees. Look: the Wings are being extinguished! We're losing contact with the flagship and the Sentinels."

"Dammit — look at the doorway! There are more K'vimm vessels coming through. And they're huge! Galleon class. And frigates. Lots of them. They're opening fire on the escorts. The escorts are returning fire. The escorts are trying to engage Kirito and the Sentinels with tractor beams, and tow them back to Jurai. The K'vimm are deliberately avoiding the Trees."

"Here comes the tactical analysis: The device appears to be some kind of neural stunner, used to disable the Trees. High probability that the K'vimm seek to hijack the Trees, and are bringing sufficient forces through the doorway to suppress local defenses."

Misaki was momentarily stunned. Someone wanted to steal the Royal Trees! She might have laughed, had she not been witnessing the initial engagement. Karin was recovering, and concerned about the sudden silence from her sisters. She instructed the Companion to return to their original departure point, as quickly as possible.

So they did — back through psuedospace. Only this time, they weren't fighting their way 'out' but 'sliding down', and Karin needed only to calculate their approximate point of re-entry. They emerged into realspace within shooting distance of the crystal device. An aurora of Power materialized about Karin's bow, thickening and condensing into an eye-burning sphere, before being launched at high velocity towards the generator.

The device detonated in a horrific fireball, many times the size of the previous explosion. Even though Karin's secondary shields were raised, her Lighthawk Wings were not. The biovessel staggered violently when the shockwave hit her. She screamed down her link with Misaki, who screamed in reaction. Acting on her own instincts, Karin applied her gravitics at maximum power and retreated in whatever direction her stern was pointing.

"The Sentinels are coming back on-line, and are returning fire. Still no response from Kirito. Heavy cruisers Reventin and Binoptin have grappled with the flagship and are towing her back toward Homeworld. The Trees are starting to come under fire." Someone had raised an image of two Sentinels linked side-by-side, the energy rod stretched between their bows blossoming into Lighthawk Wings. The pair were trying to maneuver into a covering position between Kirito and the advancing K'vimm. "Oh my god!"

There was a tremendous series of explosions as Kirito took multiple simultaneous impacts, the concentrated fire from several K'vimm galleons stitching a fractal pattern across the flagship's enormous surface. Fragments and splinters rippled into space, and sinuous tears appeared throughout her skin. Clouds of gas could be seen billowing into the vacuum from cracks in the huge residential module, freezing into ice crystals instantly. Four-limbed shapes could be seen tumbling among the debris spilling into the darkness. Nearby, a steel-skinned destroyer split in two, consumed by internal fires and uncontrolled energies. Two more escort vessels reeled under impacts, their shields buckling. One of the Sentinels pinwheeled past, burning furiously. In the distance, K'vimm vessels could be seen dying in similar fashion.

Misaki roared in anger, echoed by Karin's soundless snarl. Karin did not need to be told what to do next: her gravitics kicked-in at maximum thrust, and she threw herself into the gap between the opposing forces. The nimbus of Power shimmered into existence, raw and ravenous, and another ball of lightning hurtled towards the K'vimm. It struck the nearest galleon, converting it into a miniature sun. Burning fragments tumbled into neighboring warships, overloading their shields and sending them careening. She engaged these cripples with her secondary batteries, punching gaping wounds through their armored shells. She launched another Powerball into their formation, and was rewarded by a sensor-searing blast.

But vengeance was not without cost. Karin's main defense — her Lighthawk Wings — were not available when being used offensively. And while busy condensing yet another orb, her secondary shields were swamped by the combined fire of the closest K'vimm dreadnoughts. Karin screamed, as she recoiled under the blows. The shields held, but the residential module was shaken violently. Internal frameworks collapsed, crushing furniture, appliances, consoles, and people. Misaki was tossed head-first into a bulkhead, and she slid to the deck in a limp pile. Fires started in three chambers, and surviving crewmembers fought them while Karin retreated. The balancers failed, and debris — organic and fabricated — floated about the smoke-filled module.

Misaki was unconscious, and so did not witness the quartet of K'vimm corvettes that raced though the fleeing Juraian flotilla, launching several torpedo spreads. Four missiles hit the flagship and atomized it, killing everyone aboard — including her husband. She did not watch as multiple impacts rippled across the rear-guard destroyers, breaking one in half and gutting the other two. Nor did she see the ignominious retreat by the survivors, limping frantically towards the expected safety of Homeworld.

##########

Yosho was sitting at his desk in the shrine office, working through a stack of paperwork, when he felt Funaho's warning. His instincts took over: he retrieved the Master Key, donned his sandals, and was bolting down the mountainside in less than a minute.

When he burst into the clearing, science station personnel were running in all directions, yelling in anger and panic. Explosions blossomed among them, throwing clouds of debris and sprays of pond water high into the air. Looking upward, Yosho saw two vessels hovering along the edge of the valley, slowly descending as their landing gear unfolded. A third was flying back and forth above the clearing, firing bright beams of energy from belly guns. His experienced eye discerned that (1) none of the covering fire was aimed at people or equipment, so carnage was not the intruders' primary intent, and (2) the orbiting vessel kept its pattern centered on Funaho — which meant the Royal Tree was the target.

The vessels were squat and ugly in design, the size of a city bus. They proved to be troop transports, as multi-legged man-sized beetle-shaped figures shambled down the boarding ramps from each ship and began racing towards the pond. Yosho did not recognize them, nor the designs of their vessels, so dismissed the question until later. He ran into the clearing and began shouting instructions, commanding the scientists and technicians to evacuate into the woods. He assisted those who had fallen, spoke encouragements to the aged and infirm, and actually snarled at one lab-coated individual who was brandishing a stick at the approaching combatants. Once he was sure that the civilians were on their way to safety, Yosho strode down to the railed gantry, turned to face the invaders, and ignited the Master Key.

A moment later, Ryoko and Ayeka materialized beside him.

"We heard the explosions," Ryoko said, igniting her own energy sword. She began watching the orbiting transport, timing its patterns. She summoned Ryo-ohki through their link.

"How is Tenchi?" Yosho asked.

"He remains asleep," Ayeka answered, as a swarm of log-shaped guardians appeared about her. She wished that she'd brought Azaka and Kamidake along on this trip.

"What are those things?" Ryoko asked.

"I don't know, but I believe they have designs on Funaho."

"We'll see about that," Ryoko muttered, just as the first intruders entered the clearing. They opened fire with their oddly-shaped weapons, which fizzled uselessly against Ayeka's shield. They continued to advance, dispersing rapidly. The transport overhead continued to fire upon them. "I'll take care of that one," Ryoko said, pointed upwards, and vanished.

"What are those creatures doing?" Ayeka asked. Some of the invaders were rummaging through the shelters, carrying equipment into the open and coiling many of the cables.

"It looks like they are trying to retrieve the diagnostic instruments."

"Shouldn't we try to prevent them?"

"I do not want to leave Funaho defenseless. She is still too weak to conjure her Lighthawk Wings."

"I will defend her — you deal with those vandals!"

Yosho nodded once, and Ayeka restructured her shield to allow him to exit. He ran at the nearest group, raising the Master Key. He dodged some blaster bolts, deflected others with his own shield, and closed the distance. There was a blue-white blur as he applied the Master Key, and alien bodies began collapsing (some in pieces). He moved on to the next group.

Blaster bolts continued to rain down on Ayeka's shield, but she was able to adjust it to allow sections to pulse outwards in narrow spikes. She impaled three of the aliens that ventured too close. She tried to keep track of all of the activity going on around her.

A tremendous blast from the sky surprised everyone, and the orbiting transport tumbled to ground trailing smoke and flames. It crumpled upon impact, spitting sparks and shards in all directions. Ryoko's victory laugh could be heard faintly above the weapons fire.

Then a shadow blanketed Funaho. Ayeka looked up to see a starship descending, its cloaking field shimmering as it was deactivated. In seconds the entire pond was enveloped in the spreading pool of shade. The ship ceased its descent to hover directly over Funaho, and a cone of light reached down from the keel to pinion the Royal Tree. Ayeka watched as loose equipment canisters, cables, and Funaho's limbs began to drift upwards. Then Ayeka felt it, too, as her own weight began to diminish. "Tractor beam!" she shouted to her companions.

Yosho was carving his way through the insect-like creatures, who did their best to avoid him and continue tossing cabinets into the tractor beam. Cables slithered from the pond with snake-like intent, looping and twisting like drunken cobras. Portable terminals and documents floated upwards in a bizarre ballet. Clouds of mist rose from the pond's surface like steam wraiths. Funaho creaked audibly, and her root structure quivered. The beam brightened visibly as the power increased.

Ayeka backed onto the gantry, wrapping the shield around her and anchoring it to the ground. Blaster bolts continued to ripple brightly on its surface, but the invaders had figured out how to stay sheltered and thus evade her spikes. The gantry began to shake, as it — along with Ayeka and her shield — were being tugged skyward. With a sudden lurch, the gantry slid out from beneath her and rose into the air. She followed for a few seconds, until she frantically realigned her shield with boulders extruding from the pond bed. She dangled like a tethered balloon.

And then a second explosion lit-up the sky, and the tractor beam snapped off. Ayeka screamed and tumbled to the ground, rolling around inside her shield like a hamster in a Plexiglas sphere. Objects of all sizes clattered across her shield surface. Her concentration wavered under the buffeting and disorientation, and failed completely when one edge of the gantry struck her forcefield. The shield collapsed, and she passed out.

Yosho spun about to locate the origin of the explosion, and discovered Ryo-ohki hovering above the edge of the valley, pumping fire into the alien starship. Ryoko flew towards her ship and then disappeared as she teleported aboard. With a violent roar, the alien vessel zoomed skyward like an artillery round, chased by Ryo-ohki. About him, the creatures were retreating towards their transports and, to his horror, two of them gathered Ayeka from the rubble and scurried into the woods. Yosho skipped sideways to avoid a blaster bolt, bisected the attacker with the Master Key, and ran after Ayeka.

Yosho only got halfway up the hillside when he heard the transports lift off, their ramps closing and their landing gear retracting. Cloaking fields shimmered about them, wiping them from visibility, and the resulting crystal-like distortions raced off over the mountains.

Yosho stood alone on the battlefield.

##########

Dreams...walls...barriers.

In the half-conscious state he lay in, Tenchi's dreams and memories blurred.

He was sitting on his front steps one summer day, not long after his engagement to his galactic houseguests. It had been one of those rare moments when he had been alone, and he sat watching Sasami and Ryo-ohki chasing one another through the grass by the dock. It had been peaceful, and he had almost objected when he felt someone drop onto the steps beside him. Irritation had changed to surprise, however, when he realized who it was. "Hi, Washu."

"Hi, yourself. What are you doing out here?" She was still in her adolescent form then, and her voice was higher-pitched.

"Oh, just watching Sasami and Ryo-ohki."

"Ah." She had a book, and was obviously looking for a quiet place to read. But before she could get too immersed in it, Tenchi interrupted her. "Washu, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"I've always wondered how little Ryo-ohki turns into something as big a space ship. I get the impression that there's more to her than meets the eye."

Washu studied him a moment, a glint in her eyes. "That's not a bad assessment, Tenchi. Yes, there's more to her than meets the eye. Much more. Ever wonder why she eats so many carrots?"

"Well, yeah. She'd clean-out all of the fields if we gave her the chance. I think she eats a lot of other plants besides."

"She does, and I give her some high-protein supplements as well. She _has_ to eat a lot, because she's so big."

Tenchi watched the cabbit romping in the grass, and considered. "I'll bet it has something do with other dimensions, doesn't it?"

Washu beamed. "Oh, I am so pleased! Yes, Tenchi, she's a multi-dimensional organism. What you see there is only a fraction of the total creature. The rest of her resides in psuedospace, and only ventures into realspace when she needs to." Tenchi chewed that one over, with Washu watching him the whole time. "Having trouble visualizing it?"

He nodded. She took him by the hand and walked him out onto the dock.

"See that fish? If you were to lean over and put a fingertip into the water, what would the fish see?"

"A tiny bump, bigger than an insect, smaller than itself."

"And the tiny bump could move around, and do all sorts of things, couldn't it? But the fish can't see the whole finger above the surface, can it? Or the hand attached to the finger, or the arm attached to the hand, or the rest of your body — until you entered the water. Do you see the analogy?"

"Yeah, I do. That's pretty impressive, Washu."

"I thought so. Ryoko is the same way, you know."

"I am?" said a voice behind them. Tenchi started, but Washu appeared nonplussed. He felt Ryoko's hands on his shoulders.

"Sure are. That's how you can phase through walls and teleport. Only most of you is on this side of the barrier, while most of Ryo-ohki is on the other side of the barrier."

"You know, I was always so busy using the ability, I never wondered much about how it worked."

"Washu, what about the ship-like parts of her, the command deck and such?"

"Why does a turtle have a hard shell? It's just the way she is, Tenchi. And she lets us make use of it. You, of all people, should have learned by now that what is on the surface seldom reflects what is in the depths. Look at Sasami. Look at yourself." She kissed his cheek and headed back to the steps, humming happily.

"Tenchi?" Ryoko asked nervously.

"Yes?"

"Do...you...think differently about me...now?" There was fear in her eyes.

His smile was genuine, as was his hug. "Of course not. It's just another example of how special you are."

Dreams...walls...barriers.

He was back in his dream, enclosed in a box, too small stand, too small to recline, too small to do _anything_. He slapped and punched and kicked at the walls, screaming to get out. But it wasn't enough, the barriers held fast.

And then he heard Washu's voice, drifting out of his memory, "That's how you can phase through walls and teleport. Only most of you is on this side of the barrier." And, "Do you see the analogy?"

Of course.

##########

"What's happening to him?" Ken'ichi asked. "What's that thing on his forehead?"

"The Emblem of Power," Yosho replied. "Better stand back kids, something is about to happen."

Something was happening. The tripartite symbol on Tenchi's brow continued to glow brighter and brighter, becoming painful to look at it. In fact, his whole body seemed swathed in blue-white light. The hair on everyone's necks began to bristle.

"It's happening again, isn't it, Father?" Nobuyuki asked.

"Yes, it is. This is why he came home. Perhaps we should…"

There was a flash of light and Tenchi disappeared.

##########

He recognized the feeling. It caressed his nervous system every time he teleported an object, like warm water trickling across his skin. Only this time, he was immersed in it. He opened his eyes to find himself lying on the rocks outside Ryoko's cave. His special retreat, or Fortress of Solitude (a term his father had once borrowed from a comic book). He sat up, feeling Power coursing through him at a fever pitch, and his mind expanding in a direction he had never experienced before. He knew what it was, what he had finally accomplished.

He'd broken into psuedospace, and he had teleported. Like Ryoko.

He thought about the dock in front of his house, its familiar wooden planks simmering in the summer sunshine, and the sound of water lapping at its supports. He reached out and through the new dimension, searching, and then applied Power. There was that familiar feeling, like traveling with Ryoko, like 'shifting' small objects, and suddenly he was sitting on the dock.

He built an image of his room, and _leapt_.

"Tenchi!"

"Oh, hi, Dad."

"What happened? Where did you go?"

"I teleported. Like Ryoko. I went up to the cave, and then out to the dock. Wow..."

"You're glowing," Kiyoko said, peeking out from behind Nobuyuki.

Tenchi looked at his hands. "I guess I am. It'll probably fade after while, once I get the hang of this." He looked around. "Where are Ayeka and Ryoko?"

Yosho sighed. "They're gone, Tenchi. Much has happened while you were asleep." 

**ACT 2 - NORMALIZING AND ANNEALING**

_I took a walk around the world  
To ease my troubled mind  
I left my body laying somewhere  
In the sands of time  
I watched the world float  
To the dark side of the moon  
I feel there is nothing I can do, yeah _

_I watched the world float  
To the dark side of the moon  
After all I knew it had to be  
Something to do with you  
I really don't mind what happens now and then  
As long as you'll be my friend at the end _

_If I go crazy then will you still  
Call me Superman  
If I'm alive and well, will you be  
There holding my hand  
I'll keep you by my side  
With my superhuman might  
Kryptonite _

_You called me strong, you called me weak,  
But still your secrets I will keep  
You took for granted all the times  
I never let you down  
You stumbled in and bumped your head,  
If not for me then you would be dead  
I picked you up and put you back  
On solid ground _

_If I go crazy then will you still  
Call me Superman  
If I'm alive and well,  
Will you be there holding my hand  
I'll keep you by my side  
With my superhuman might  
Kryptonite _

_Yeah! If I go crazy then will you still  
Call me Superman  
If I'm alive and well, will you be there  
Holding my hand  
I'll keep you by my side  
With my superhuman might  
Kryptonite _

Title: "Kryptonite"  
Artist: 3 Doors Down 

"They call themselves K'vimm," said the scientist. He and four colleagues sat in the Shrine office, in front of Yosho's desk. facing the Crown Prince. Behind him stood his grandson, an expressionless mask pulled over his face. "They come from a neighboring arm of the galaxy. We know little about them, although the GP probably does."

"Can you think of any possible reason for entering a restricted area, and attacking a science station?" Yosho asked.

"We cannot think of any reasons, Your Highness. The buoys about this system conform to treaty standards. We noticed that they remained cloaked except during the actual attack; that bespeaks a certain adherence to the Conventions."

"Possibly, or perhaps simple expedience — cloaked ships are harder to detect." Yosho sipped his tea, and regarded his neighbors. "Were there any serious injuries?"

"A few broken bones, and one minor concussion. Already attended to. More disruption was done to Funaho's salvage operation than to any personnel. Much of our equipment was damaged or destroyed."

"And Funaho?"

"Some of her roots were extracted prematurely. She will recover quickly enough. A minor setback of a few weeks at most."

Yosho nodded, aware of Tenchi beside him. He turned to look at his grandson. "Do you have any questions for our visitors?"

Tenchi slowly shook his head.

The spokesman for the group turned to Yosho. "Your Highness, should we initiate our evacuation plans?"

"No," Yosho replied. "If your station had been the target, the K'vimm could have simply bombed it from high orbit. I believe that they wanted Funaho. You should repair the damage and proceed with your efforts. I will talk to the admiralty about an increased naval presence."

They bowed, visibly relieved, and exited the office.

##########

Tenchi - _Ryoko_

Ryoko_ - Tenchi?_

Tenchi_ - Yes, it's me_

Ryoko_ - Are you awake? Of course you're awake. How can you reach me this far out?_

Tenchi_ - I have...changed...grown. Ryoko, you are in danger, turn around immediately_

Ryoko_ - Huh? Are you kidding? Another hour and we'll be close enough to blast that ship to atoms!_

Tenchi_ - Another hour and you will likely be surrounded. That ship is leading you into an ambush_

Ryoko_ - How do you know?_

Tenchi_ - I can sense them ahead of you. Turn around __**now**_

Ryoko_ - You're sure?_

Tenchi_ - Yes. Very sure_

Ryoko_ - Do you know who these creeps are?_

Tenchi_ - They are called the K'vimm, and they are not inhabitants of Jurai space_

Ryoko_ - Uh, oh..._

Tenchi_ - What is it?_

Ryoko_ - I just had Ryo-ohki do a long-range scan. There's a dimensional doorway opening ahead of us_

Tenchi_ - Get out of there, Ryoko. **Now!**_

Ryoko_ - Ok, ok, you've convinced me!_

Tenchi stepped around the desk, but did not sit down. "There are more of them."

"You know this?"

"Yes. Ryoko has seen a dimensional doorway opening out beyond Mars. I fear she is being led into a trap. Mihoshi is in-bound, and is liable to run into the same threat. And there is another group of human ships out near Pluto. I don't know who they are."

"More than likely a Juraian naval task force, sent to provide you and your family with an escort if the need arises. And I think this definitely qualifies as a 'need.'"

Tenchi started for the door. Yosho followed him outside.

"I must help Ryoko and Mihoshi, before I can look for Ayeka."

"How can you reach them?"

"I have a way, but I am extremely reluctant to use it. I have only seen this Power manifestation used once before — by Kagato." Tenchi stopped at the bottom of the wooden steps and looked at his grandfather. "I know how to replicate it. But I am afraid that if I do, I will be taking one more step down the path that he trod."

"A sword is just a tool, Tenchi. It is the man that wields it who decides whether it fights for justice or chaos."

Tenchi nodded. There really wasn't any choice: the lives of his family mattered more to him than anything else. Even his own future. He backed away from the steps, summoning his Power. The Emblem flashed into visibility, blazing even in the late afternoon sunshine. He gestured and the Lighthawk Wings shimmered into existence, hovering in their Y-shaped configuration. His Lighthawk Armor appeared as well, shimmering as it settled along his contours. His mind manipulated the underlying patterns, and the wings began to stretch, merging into an amorphous shape that rapidly englobed him.

Yosho stood on the steps, watching anxiously as Tenchi encased himself in the blue-white cocoon. And then he gasped as the cocoon rose silently into the air, receding at an ever-increasing velocity. It vanished into the azure sky, just as Kagato's traveling sphere had once vanished after abducting Ryoko.

##########

Ayeka sat on a bench that ran the length of the transport's cabin. On either side of her sat two of the chitin-covered, multi-limbed creatures. They were armored and armed, and they refused to answer her questions. Across the aisle sat three more of the aliens, all as stoic and as silent as her benchmates. She stewed quietly, knowing that this short-range vehicle was incapable of taking them very far.

In fact, in less than 15 minutes the forward hatch irised outward, and she was escorted down the ramp and into a large room filled with desks and chairs and antique (to her, anyway) computers. The room was unlit except by the light filtering in through the windows. The source of the illumination came from surrounding buildings, and from a level well below the windows, so she assumed that she was in an office tower in one of Earth's larger cities. And since it was nighttime here, and had been day-time in Japan, she had to assume that she was now somewhere on the far side of the planet. She heard the mechanical whine of the rising ramp, and a slam which must have been a door closing. She kept her mounting panic tightly reined.

"Welcome, Princess Ayeka!" The vaguely familiar voice came from the shadows along the back wall, and a figure ignited one of the desk-mounted lamps. The glow spilled upwards in a weak cone, but it was enough to discern a hooked-nose and pink-tinged locks above Juraian robes.

"Lord Seiryo!"

"How flattering that you remember me, my dear." He stepped out of the shadows, approaching her slowly. Ayeka simply tilted her head and crossed her arms, apparently unimpressed and unintimidated. "I trust your journey here was not too unpleasant?"

"Of course it was unpleasant. Who are those creatures?"

"Business associates of mine, actually. They are called the K'vimm. Not very appealing to look at, I agree, but definitely proficient at what they do."

"And what do they do — kidnapping and assault?"

"Yes," he feigned a sigh of resignation. "Accomplished thieves and pirates, too, when they have the need to be."

"That's close enough," Ayeka growled. Seiryo stopped, surprised. "What could possibly interest such scavengers in the Sol system? This is a protected area, technically and socially primitive. It is much too distant from the trade routes to be of any strategic value."

Seiryo recovered his courage, and stepped closer. "It has two redeeming qualities, Your Highness: you are here, and so is your brother's Royal Tree." He reached for her. Ayeka casually intercepted his right hand, gripped two of the fingers, and bent them backwards. The slender, seemingly diminutive woman suddenly revealed her enormous strength. Seiryo gasped audibly, rising onto his toes and arching his back in an effort to ease the pressure on his fingers.

"Before you attempt anything dramatic and completely stupid, I will call your attention to just how easily I can break these repulsive digits of yours. I realized aboard that transport that you have shielded your facilities against my Power attributes, but I am far from helpless. In fact, I have had some interesting lessons on self-defense — like this one, for instance." She punched Seiryo squarely in the stomach, using her native strength and the leverage from the twist of her waist, to send him staggering into the wall, gagging and gasping. She watched his eyes for the shock to wear off, and the inevitable anger to appear. He lunged at her. She intercepted his functional left hand, passed it in front of her centerline, and buried her elbow into his exposed bicep. As he howled in pain, she extended her arm and struck the right side of his face, again using the torque generated from her hips. His head snapped sideways, and she used his locked left arm to push him backwards just far enough to raise her right leg and stamp-kick him in the stomach. He collapsed noisily. "That was another interesting facet of my education. Never punch the head — there are too many fragile bones in your hand. Better to use the palm or the ridge. My teacher is quite thorough, don't you think?" In response, he made several retching noises. "Good. Now, why would my brother's Royal Tree be of any interest to you or those K'vimm?"

Seiryo struggled to his feet, all the while watching Ayeka cautiously. Then he grinned viciously. "The K'vimm want the Royal Trees. In fact, they are even now attacking your planet. They intend to tow the Royal Trees back to K'vimm space, and empty the Royal Arboretum."

Ayeka kept her face impassive and her voice steady. "Well, it's easy to guess who has been supplying them with privileged information, isn't it? And what do you get out of this arrangement?"

"You, of course. And since you will be the only surviving member of the Royal Family, that makes you the Crown Princess. And after we are married, then I will be the new Emperor, and _my_ family will start a new dynasty!"

Ayeka yawned. "You will find that the Royal Trees will not be so easily subdued. And as for my family — "

"Your family will be eliminated with comparative ease," said another voice from the shadows. "And I have already provided the K'vimm with a way to neutralize the Trees." The figure that stepped from the shadows was a woman. In her youth she had been tall and silver-haired, soft-skinned and golden-eyed. But now she was stooped with age, and her beauty had succumbed to the weight of years. She walked with a cane. And she held a gun. "My son devised an elegant method for binding a Royal Tree, and even tested it effectively on Tsunami. Most impressive. And as for your family...well, I do believe it's time to terminate the House of Jurai."

Seiryo stepped forward and reached for Ayeka again, confidant of the gun held by his companion. Ayeka promptly illustrated the failure in his logic by jerking on his right hand. He was momentarily unbalanced, and he shuffled his right foot forward to compensate. She slipped her left leg behind his right knee and looped her left hand over his extended right arm. And then she bent her knees, sank her center of gravity, and snapped her arms apart. Her left hand propelled him over her left knee, and he dropped to the floor with a muffled _thud_, his head rebounding off the carpet. "And yet another lesson from my teacher, on the dangers of over-confidence."

"Ju...just who is your teacher?" Seiryo stammered.

"My husband!" Ayeka replied proudly. She turned to face the elderly woman.

The old woman cackled. "Your Highness, I have to confess that I admire your style. Now, please stop molesting my partner and step onto that platform over there." She gestured with the pistol at a gap in the desks, where a glowing dais two meters on a side hummed quietly on the carpeted floor.

Ayeka crossed her arms and tilted her head. "I need to use the ladies' room."

"Such recalcitrance will get you shot, Princess."

"And an injured hostage is not only lower in value but requires higher maintenance."

The old woman yielded, nodding minutely. "Very well. It's the second door on your right."

Ayeka started for the door and stopped, turning to face Seiryo. "Don't you **ever** attempt to touch me again, vermin." The 'or else' was unspoken but implied.

After Ayeka had left the room, Seiryo staggered into the nearest chair. He glared after the princess.

"Good luck trying to tame that one," the old woman said.

"There are some truly marvelous drugs available, which will make her cooperative if not actually compliant. Besides, she only has to live long enough to complete the wedding ceremony. Afterwards, she's disposable."

"She's pregnant, you know."

Seiryo stared at her. "How do you know that?"

"I scanned her. I don't like surprises."

"Well, well, well. There might have to be an abortion in the near future. Or the fetus can die with the mother. An interesting decision." His lips stretched into a humorless rictus.

The door opened and Ayeka returned, her haughty demeanor undiminished. "Thank you," she said to the woman, and then stepped onto the indicated platform.

The woman withdrew a small keypad from her robes and pressed a combination of buttons. A force field shimmered into existence around Ayeka. Ayeka settled onto the platform, kneeling quietly in apparent meditation.

Seiryo grumbled irritably.

##########

Tenchi had been right, of course. He was usually right. If she had delayed that scan any longer she would have sailed right into the K'vimm squadron. There was a time she would've faced such odds with a glint in her eye and guns blazing; but now she had too much to lose. The very thought of never seeing Tenchi again filled her with deep dread.

Ryo-ohki, like most objects in the universe, simply could not stop on a coin. It took power, and it took time. And if she had attempted the maneuver, the K'vimm vessels pouring out of dimensional doorway — enjoying a zero velocity advantage — could have easily accelerated and overtaken her. Bad move on her part. Instead, Ryo-ohki had altered course into a wide, cometary orbit, pulling away from the K'vimm on a vector Ryoko hoped would discourage any pursuit.

No such luck, however. The ship she had been chasing began decelerating almost as soon as Ryo-ohki had changed course. Two similar vessels drove away from their doorway at a high rate of speed, and now it was Ryoko's turn to be the target of a stern chase. Ominously, the remaining K'vimm vessels had set a course for the outer planets.

And those ugly, nest-like ships were faster than Ryo-ohki! She frantically dodged the energy blasts from the two pursuing K'vimm ships. Fireballs erupted from her armored wings as the occasional shot found its mark. Ryoko was just as frantically wracking her brain, trying to find a strategy to extricate them from this trap, but she was coming-up empty-handed. She had to admit that Ryo-ohki was tiring, that her energy reserves were nearly depleted, and it looked as though their luck had finally run out. Despair and fear had almost extinguished Ryoko's vaunted fighting spirit, though she continued to encourage Ryo-ohki. She expected to die — soon — in a curtain of flame when the shields finally collapsed.

It was then that Ryo-ohki signaled her that _something_ was approaching them at incredible speed. What few resources she could spare to examine the object told her little: a sphere of high-frequency energy, probably a shield of some sort, no more than three meters in diameter, heading straight for them. Ryoko admitted defeat at last. "Goodbye, my Tenchi..."

But: the blue-white ball of light rocketed past Ryo-ohki and executed an impossible right-angled course change that sent it into _and through_ the closest K'vimm warship. The dreadnought disintegrated into flaming fragments, spewing burning chunks of metal that peppered Ryo-ohki's shields with debris. Then the sphere executed another incredibly-fast maneuver and burrowed into the second vessel, passing through its shields and armor plating like tissue paper. The warship burst at the seams, spilling white-hot clouds of fire into the vacuum. Saw-toothed shards of steel and plastic pinwheeled into the endless night, as two incandescent clouds cooled visibly and vanished utterly. Ryoko was staggered by the speed and ferocity of her rescue.

Just as suddenly, the blue-white ball changed course again, bearing directly for Ryoko's ship. It passed through Ryo-ohki's shields and skin as easily as it had through the other vessels'. It hovered momentarily above the command deck before cracking into slices that receded into an all-too-familiar Y-winged configuration. Then the wings disappeared, leaving behind an all-too-familiar figure girded in glowing armor. Even if she didn't recognize his face, his smell, or the sound of his breathing, Ryoko's heart recognized him unerringly.

"Tenchi!" she cried, flying across the intervening distance and wrapping her arms around her husband. She spent an indeterminate time kissing him passionately, laughing hysterically, and sobbing uncontrollably. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Then who'd raise our children to be proper little pirates?" he asked softly.

"We don't have any children," she sniffled, her voice muffled by his neck.

"Yet." He waited patiently for another round of sobs to settle out, before pushing her gently away. "I can't stay, Ryoko. Mihoshi is about to sail into a similar trap."

She dried her eyes with her sleeves, regaining her composure. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go. After all, you mess with one Masaki, you mess with us all!"

"I'll take care of Mihoshi, don't worry. But I have another task for you back on Earth."

"What kind of task?"

"Ayeka is being held hostage someplace. I need you locate her."

Ryoko shook her head grimly. "No. I want to help you. I want to _burn _those bastards..."

He placed a hand gently along the side of her face, and she responded by tipping her head into the palm. "No, Ryoko. We have a long, difficult journey ahead of us. I need you rested, recovered, and ready to kick ass." That brought a smile to her face. "With all your experience the last few months doing intelligence work for Lady Funaho, you are the most qualified to find Ayeka. Right now, I need a spy, not a warrior." She nodded reluctantly, conceding his point. "What kind of shape is Ryo-ohki in?"

"She's tired, Tenchi, and wounded. She needs energy."

"Well, maybe I can help with that," he smiled. He stepped away from her and spread his arms, the Lighthawk Emblem flaring on his brow like a three-part sun. A blue-white nimbus formed around him, which he directed downwards into Ryo-ohki. The ship bucked once, and then started vibrating. Tenchi fed her as much Power as she could take, waiting for some indication that she was finished. The signal was a lion-like roar that reverberated through the command deck, a far cry from the usual cat-like "Miya!" that she vocalized.

Ryoko laughed. "Well, I guess she's recovered!"

"Ryoko," Tenchi said, the smile leaving his face. "Don't let yourself be detected. They might execute Ayeka if they think there's a rescue underway. I don't know why they took her. Just be very careful."

Ryoko nodded. "I will. Now come here and kiss me, and then be on your way!"

It was long, fervent, and ended with whispered promises. And then he was englobed in blue-white light and gone.

"Oh, damn!" she swore, snapping her fingers. "I was gonna ask him how the hell he does that...and how he blew those ships up! "

"Mrowrrr!" Ryo-ohki snarled.

##########

They came from in-system: nearly two-dozen hive-shaped vessels clearly not of human design. The Galaxy Police cruiser Yukinojo had attempted to hail the squadron, having quickly identified the ships as belonging to a star-faring race that frankly had no business being there. And for its efforts it was promptly fired upon. Yukinojo had veered-off on a sunward course and fled, and three of the intruders had peeled-off after it.

Yukinojo fired its thrusters in random sequences, trying to dodge the energy blasts from the warships on its tail. Only the nearest was an actual threat, since the three K'vimm ships were staggered behind the fleeing GP cruiser. But the overwhelming firepower of even one of the behemoths was more than a match for Yukinojo. The cruiser had taken several grazing hits, taxing its shields to the limit, and straining its skeletal framework during its frantic evasive maneuvers.

Though Mihoshi sat in the pilot's station, she didn't actually control Yukinojo. Starship maneuvers, particularly during combat, were calculated and executed at speeds far in excess of human cognition. Still, she could offer advice to the ship's artificial intelligence unit, as well as her affinity for sheer dumb luck to keep the cruiser intact. Kiyone sat in the co-pilot's chair, praying to whatever deities that might be listening.

Kiyone's prayers were answered: "Mihoshi, there is an unidentified object approaching at extremely high velocity. It appears to be vectoring in on an intercept course." The AI had been programmed with basic emotional expression, which at the moment sounded like a cross between panic and distraction.

"Which direction is it coming from?" Mihoshi cried, as the ship executed another desperate lunge.

"Sunwards," the AI replied. "Contact in three...two...one..."A blue-white sphere flashed by the ship's viewports as it passed close abeam. The AI already had the bridge monitors pointing towards the stern, so it was impossible to miss as the object dived straight into the nearest pursuer and detonated it with an eye-searing explosion. "Primary K'vimm threat destroyed. Unidentified object reacquired...now changing course to intercept the closest remaining vessel." The second warship didn't recognize the threat until too late, when it attempted its own evasive shuffle. The sphere altered course and caught its prey easily, obliterating it in a churning fireball. "Secondary K'vimm threat destroyed. Unidentified object now targeting the surviving K'vimm vessel." The third battlecraft was far enough away to have witnessed the destruction of its sisters, and so opened fire on the sphere with everything it had. The Lilliputian opponent was unaffected, passing through energy beams and exploding torpedoes like a blue-white specter. The third alien battlecraft died seconds later. "All K'vimm threats eliminated. Unidentified object has changed course again. Interception in five seconds."

There was just enough time for Mihoshi and Kiyone to exchange glances before the bridge was bathed in blue-white light. And then they were joined by a lone figure in luminescent armor, taking stock of his surroundings.

"Tenchi!" Mihoshi threw off her safety harness, climbed on her chair, stepped onto the navigation console, and leaped into her husband's arms, all in one smooth movement. Neither said anything for the next few moments, mouths occupied with other activities. Eventually, Mihoshi's adrenaline-induced shaking subsided, and she put her head on his shoulder. "I just _knew_ it had to be you."

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"I am now."

"Yukinojo, what is your status?" Tenchi said to the AI.

"Shields at 7%, Life Support down to 54%, and main battery energy cells depleted. Minor damage to outer hull in three locations."

"How soon can you affect repairs?"

"It will be at least two days to restore enough power to commence repairs."

"Can I transfer power directly into your subsystems?"

"Yes, Your Highness. It will take a few minutes to reconfigure a transfer conduit."

"Please proceed, and notify me when you are ready."

"Acknowledged."

"Your Highness?" Kiyone had finally found her voice.

"Oh, how rude of me!" Mihoshi stammered. "Tenchi, this is my long-lost partner and best friend, Detective First Class Kiyone Makibi. Kiyone, this is my husband, Prince Sir Tenchi Masaki." She had obviously waited a long time to make that introduction, and her smile was radiant.

Kiyone's smile was polite, but more than a little apprehensive. "Pleased to meet you, Your Highness," she said, bowing.

"Just call me Tenchi," he replied, grinning. "I thought you were MIA?"

"Washu found her and rescued her. Isn't that great?" Mihoshi interrupted. "She's been assigned to my office. We're partners again!"

Tenchi didn't miss the subtle sigh of resignation from Kiyone. "I'll worry less knowing that you have someone so professional working with you," Tenchi said to his wife. Kiyone's eyebrows perked.

"Your Highness, the transfer conduit is ready."

"Thank you, Yukinojo. Mihoshi, would you guide me to the engine room?" She took him by the hand and led him off the bridge and down the access corridor, chattering the whole way. Tenchi just smiled, relieved to hear his wife's voice again. Kiyone followed, not really knowing what else to do.

The cruiser's engine room was cramped and efficient, as was everything else aboard a ship designed for long-term patrols in distant places. Two maintenance 'bots were scuttling off a jury-rigged pedestal near one of the main consoles. A single metal plate dominated the space at the top of the waist-high column. "When you are ready, Your Highness, just place your hand on the contact plate and commence the energy exchange. I will inform you when my reservoirs have been replenished."

Tenchi extricated himself gently from Mihoshi, and guided her off to a safe corner. Kiyone stood in the doorway, watching with interest. The Emblem of Power appeared on his brow, and the room was flooded with the blue-white aurora that encircled his body. Tenchi placed his right hand firmly on the plate and focused Power into the pedestal. Yukinojo absorbed the energy hungrily, and the dials and instruments around the room reflected the improving readiness. It only took a few moments. "Thank you, Your Highness. All reserves at maximum. I will commence my repairs immediately."

Tenchi walked over to his wife and took her hands. "Mihoshi, I want you to head straight for Earth. There is trouble brewing there. Ayeka has been kidnapped and I've already got Ryoko searching for her. Meet me at Dad's house as soon as you can. Understand?" Mihoshi nodded, wide-eyed. "One more thing: there's a Juraian task force orbiting the ninth planet. Please inform them about your attack, and that I'm on my way." He kissed his wife goodbye, and stepped away from her. "Kiyone, it's been a pleasure. We'll talk more once things settle down."

Kiyone nodded. "Until then, Your High — Tenchi." She bowed at the figure backing into the center of the room. Then she gasped as she recognized the Lighthawk Wings that snapped into existence before him. At some unheard command, they elongated and englobed him, and then he vanished. The sudden darkness was startling. "Come on, Mihoshi, he gave us our orders."

"Bye, Tenchi," she whispered, and followed Kiyone back to the bridge.

##########

Ragged broadsides were exchanged between both clusters of ships, the Juraian navy orbiting with their backs to deep space, and the hostiles on the sunward side. Sol was a brighter light in the sky than the other stars, but not by much. Were it not for the ghostly reflections off of Pluto and its moon Charon, there would be no visible indication that the combatants were within a solar system at all. Energy beams and torpedo explosions were quickly swallowed by the infinite darkness.

The Juraian navy's capital ships were the third- and fourth-generation Royal Trees, and command of such a marvel was the desire of every fleet captain. Unfortunately, none of these rare leviathans were present, and Admiral Mobinita had to be content with traditional steel-hulled warships...which, at the moment, were giving a good account of themselves. His task force had been assigned to shadow Prince Tenchi, who was further in-system. The voyage here had been uneventful, dropping out of psuedospace nearly a week earlier to establish a loose orbit around the outermost planet, because it made a convenient rendezvous point. Someone else had the same idea, apparently, because the K'vimm flotilla that had come roaring up the gravity well knew exactly where to look for them. They had opened fire on his command two hours earlier with no warning whatsoever. The Gods alone knew what the hell K'vimm warships were doing this far into Jurai space, but at least his own ships' automatic defense systems had raised their shields at the first sign of trouble, so he had not lost any vessels.

Yet.

But that was going to change soon, because it was becoming increasingly obvious that the wasp-nest-shaped hostiles had superior shields. His own ships were expending far too much energy to score many hits, and casualties were mounting. He would soon be presented with the disagreeable choice of preserving his command by abandoning the young Prince, or to shoot his way in-system and try to locate His Highness, all the while with mounting losses.

"Admiral? We have an incoming message on the Galaxy Police Standard Frequency." The voice belonged to Balinor, the AI of the heavy cruiser that served as his flagship. Balinor's voice issued from a small sensor unit floating near his head, all the better to be heard over the background noise of the strategic bridge. Mobinita knew that Captain Istanaka, fighting her ship from the tactical bridge one deck below, would be receiving the same information.

"Who is it from?"

"Galaxy Police patrol cruiser Yukinojo, recently reassigned from this sector to the GP office on Jurai. Captain Mihoshi Masaki, commanding."

"_Princess_ Mihoshi Masaki?" The young heir had made quite a splash when he appeared at court the previous year, having already taken advantage of one of the perks of his rank.

"Yes, Sir."

"What's the message?"

"That her vessel was recently attacked by three K'vimm warships, that the Prince intervened and destroyed them, and is presently en-route to meet with our forces."

"Did you say that the Prince destroyed three K'vimm vessels _by himself_?"

"That's what the message states, Admiral."

"Captain Istanaka, did you catch all that?"

"Yes, sir," she replied, her voice filtered through the comm network.

"Admiral, long-range sensors are tracking an unidentified object approaching at high velocity." Balinor posted the read-outs on one of the monitors, although all Mobinita could see was a blue-white streak of light.

"How fast is that thing moving?" Captain Istanaka asked.

"Difficult to register accurately," Balinor replied. "Sensor readings are providing conflicting results. Optical estimation places it near 70% of light speed."

"Huh? That's impossible," Mobinita coughed. "Our fastest couriers can't do better than 25% in-system."

"The object is changing course. Estimated heading places it near the largest K'vimm warship in twenty seconds."

"You don't suppose that thing is the prince, do you?" Istanaka asked.

"Insufficient information to calculate," Balinor replied.

"But that object _is_ approximately man-sized," Istanaka said. "And the Prince _has_ been publicly seen deploying the Lighthawk Wings..."

"Guess we'll find out soon enough," Mobinita mused. "Inform the task force of the approaching object, and try to avoid shooting at it until we determine its intentions."

"Acknowledged," the AI replied.

The blue-white sphere sailed directly for the largest K'vimm warship, which resembled a termite mound bristling with gun turrets. Weapons fire from four different vessels was focused on the tiny speck, but with no effect. It vanished into the target's hull. Almost immediately the K'vimm galleon began trembling like a palsied whale, wracked by a series of internal explosions. Huge cracks encircled the ship, from which sprouted geysers of flame that expanded quickly into fountains of fire. The whole ship separated into massive chunks, some of which managed to stay intact as they emerged from the mushrooming fireball. The remainder disintegrated outright or continued to burn.

"By the gods!" Mobinita gasped.

"The K'vimm galleon has been destroyed. Unidentified object reacquired and is changing course to intercept the warship immediately astern," Balinor announced. "Contact imminent."

The second K'vimm starship was attempting a desperate evasion, while its neighbors continued to pour weapons fire onto the minute intruder. The blue-white sphere hurtled across the gap, slipping effortlessly through the victim's walls of force and metal. The warship became a nova, its mass converted almost completely to radiant energy. An expanding cloud of gas and debris marked the previous location of the vessel.

"The second K'vimm galleon has been destroyed. The object has now been tentatively identified as Prince Sir Tenchi Masaki," Balinor drawled. "His Highness is now vectoring towards the third K'vimm capitol ship. Contact imminent."

The K'vimm squadron was now in complete disarray, some elements advancing on the elusive threat with guns blazing, others attempting to escape. Mobinita's task force had been completely forgotten by the K'vimm — but he hadn't forgotten about them. "Relay message to all task force commanders: Since His Highness is dealing with the primaries, you will direct your main batteries upon the K'vimm secondaries. Convergent fire is the order of the day." His instruction was punctuated by another massive explosion.

"The third K'vimm galleon has been destroyed. His Highness is now targeting the fourth K'vimm capitol ship. Contact imminent. Secondaries are now accelerating out of the engagement area. Recommend immediate pursuit."

"I agree. Pass the order."

An enormous flash was followed by two distant, smaller bursts. "The fourth K'vimm primary has been destroyed. His Highness is now targeting the nearest K'vimm secondary. Time to interception: 3 seconds. Task force units have destroyed two K'vimm frigates."

"Pour it on," Mobinita replied.

In less than an hour there was a stream of radioactive detritus that trailed away from Pluto on a course back towards Sol. The Juraian victors were combing through the larger pieces looking for K'vimm survivors — but frankly didn't expect to find any. Few participants lived through the losing side of starship combat.

"Where is His Highness now?" Mobinita asked.

"Approaching on an intercept vector," Balinor replied. "Decelerating to conventional close-formation parameters. Time to contact: eight seconds."

"Any indications what he's going to do now?"

"No, Admiral, but there is a high probability that he will board this vessel."

"Captain Istanaka, what do you think?"

"I'd have to agree with the AI, Admiral. Better put out the good china."

Mobinita nodded. "Order the task force to stand down, and to submit readiness and casualty figures as soon as they are computed."

"Acknowledged," Balinor answered, followed by, "His Highness is now aboard."

Blue-white light suddenly flooded the strategic bridge. All activity in the cabin dwindled to a halt, as uniformed men and women twisted away from their consoles seeking the source of the illumination. The sphere settled into the only space large enough to accommodate it, before retracting into the Lighthawk Wings. The armored figure made a gesture and the wings vanished, followed seconds later by the shining body armor. Though room lighting returned to normal levels, activity levels did not — until Mobinita barked at them. He had read much about the heir to the throne, and had seen many of the vids, so he recognized the prince immediately. He rose from his desk and stepped forward, bowing stiffly.

"Your Highness, welcome aboard the Imperial Juraian Naval ship Balinor. I am Rear Admiral Mobinita, at your service."

Tenchi returned the bow. "The pleasure is mine, Admiral, although I wish the circumstances were a bit less...disruptive." Truth be told, Tenchi was intensely curious about his surroundings, but enough lectures by Ayeka and coaching by Funaho had taught him to remain composed. He had to remind himself that he was probably being recorded, and the file would almost certainly be scrutinized in the months to come.

"Your timing is impeccable, Your Highness. We were having some difficulties with their defenses."

"Thank you, Admiral. Happy I could help."

"Your Highness, do you have any idea what this is all about? The K'vimm have never ventured so far into this galactic arm, and have never attacked without provocation."

"Not yet, Admiral, but I intend to find out soon enough. Until then, my time here is somewhat limited. Does your ship come equipped with an AI unit?"

They all did, part of the standard configuration. But Mobinita thought it best not to instruct the heir to the Empire. "Yes, Your Highness. Balinor?"

"Yes, Admiral?" the AI responded.

"I believe the prince has a request to make of you."

"Please proceed, Your Highness."

"A few hours ago I effected an energy transfer to the Galaxy Police cruiser Yukinojo, which at present is headed for the third planet. Can you contact Yukinojo and acquire the technical details of the transfer?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Please do so. Admiral, what is the status of your task force?"

"We're collating the data now. It should be available in short order."

"Query completed, Your Highness," Balinor said.

"Please review the technical details. Can the same procedure be applied to the ships in this task force?"

"Working. Yes, Your Highness, the same procedure can be applied to all elements of this command."

"Balinor, do we have the readiness and casualty figures yet?" Mobinita asked.

"Yes, Admiral."

"What is the average status of all task force elements?" No need to bury the Prince in statistics, since he seemed in a hurry.

"Shields at 34%, life support down to 61%, and main battery energy cell levels at 54%. All vessels have suffered damage to their outer hulls, in three instances the breach is severe. At present energy levels repairs will require 12 to 15 days, best estimate."

"How long will it take if I provide energy transfers similar to Yukinojo?"

"Working. Repairs can be completed in five days."

"Admiral, with your permission I would like to transfer energy into all of the ships in your task force. I have reason to believe we may be needed at Homeworld in the immediate future, and we need your vessels at fighting trim."

Mobinita's first inclination was to label the request 'ludicrous.' Then he remembered that this young man had just destroyed four galleons and a handful of frigates all by himself, and gods-alone-knew how many other vessels further in-system. As his mentor had taught him centuries ago: never question royalty, and _never_ argue with a Master Class Power Adept. "We're at your convenience, Your Highness. Balinor, please advise all task force commanders that His Highness will be visiting each vessel in the next few hours. Pass along the technical details for immediate implementation. Captain Istanaka, my compliments and would you please report to the strategic bridge. Balinor, what are the total casualty figures?"

"81 dead, 506 injured."

Mobinita did a silent translation: 1-in-9 of his task force's personnel was no longer able to perform their duty. Some forever.

##########

Ryoko strolled down the street in her red-and-black jumpsuit. The street was noisy, and crowded, and dirty, and she received any number of amazed and admiring looks.

She ignored them all.

She was looking up at the walls of the skyscraper beside her. Ryo-ohki's sensors had told her that a K'vimm outpost was buried inside the building, approximately two-thirds of the way up from the ground floor. She had watched as a sporadic stream of cloaked vessels dropped from the sky and hovered just outside the windows. The locals couldn't see them, of course, but she could — as walnut-shaped distortions.

She was contemplating on whether she should just fly up and into the structure when she heard a commotion behind her. She turned slowly, seeing a group of heavily-muscled males appraising her. They liked what they saw and emphasized it vocally. Since Ryoko was in a hurry, she ignored them; she had no intention of staying in Manhattan any longer than it took to locate and rescue Ayeka. She returned to her study of the tower.

One of the males, probably the leader, tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to find his smiling face inches from her own, and the deep rumble of his voice was making obvious invitations. She didn't even smile back; she raised her hands to indicate her wedding ring, and then made sweeping gestures to shoo them away. The leader's tone of voice turned nasty, and he grabbed her shoulder.

Ryoko allowed the momentum to twist her around, and combined the torque with her own respectable strength. Her hammer fist dropped squarely on his head, and he sat on the sidewalk with a loud _thud_. His eyes were dazed and unfocused, and Ryoko said (in Japanese — the only Earth language she knew), "Get lost." She turned and started walking, noticing a bank of revolving doors a little further along the sidewalk.

She heard the group coming for her, and so she turned to face them. They were supporting their leader by his arms, and looked determined to take revenge for putting him in such a humiliating position. She waited patiently for them. They gathered around her like a pack of wolves, making intimidating gestures and threatening postures. They looked angry, and supremely confident, as they heckled a lone female. For a moment, she tried to picture Tenchi performing this ritual, and just couldn't — it was too barbaric. She turned to the largest member of the group (_very_ large, actually), and hoisted him into the air with one hand. She tossed him across the roof of one of the nearby ground cars. Then she turned to the stunned pack members, glared at each of them in turn, and dropped another hammer fist onto the leader's melon-shaped head. His lights went out and he plummeted to the pavement, dragging his nearest associates along like cascading rag dolls.

They did not bother her again.

She followed a group of pedestrians into the building, looking around curiously. There was a lot of brass and marble evident, applied in replicating curls and wavy patterns. It was quite attractive. She watched the tide of humanity flowing into and out of the elevators, realizing their function immediately, and finally joined one of the smaller groups. She rode the elevator up as far as it would go, and waited until she was alone in the car. Then she phased up through the floor and into the dark shaft, drifting slowly until she had reached the calculated floor.

She stuck her head through the elevator doors, looking both ways quickly. The corridor appeared deserted, so she floated through the doors and hovered silently. The hallway continued the brass-and-marble decor, and stenciled doorways lined the hall in both directions. She settled onto the carpet and started walking slowly. Locals in business attire entered and departed the doors on a random basis, but there was one set at the end of the hall that no one appeared to use. She waited until the hall was empty, and phased through the door.

She stood in office devoid of lights and people, filled with desks and chairs, and facing a bank of unshuttered windows. Halfway down the room, she saw Ayeka's cage. Ayeka herself was kneeling on the floor, idly watching out the windows. Ryoko smiled and strode across the room.

She didn't know if Ayeka could hear her, and she didn't know if touching the force field would set-off any alarms, so she walked around in front of Ayeka and knelt on the floor.

Ayeka recoiled, visibly startled. Her lips started moving, the look on her face was quite agitated — but relieved, as well — and Ryoko was glad to see her alive and unhurt. Ryoko started examining Ayeka's prison, looking for any controls or sources of power. She wasn't having much luck, and Ayeka's silent entreaties were not helping much.

"Are you looking for something?"

Ryoko suppressed her reaction to the man's voice. She looked over her shoulder at the two figures standing behind her. She recognized the man instantly. "Well, if it ain't Seiryo. Long time, no see, pretty boy. Still wearing that ridiculous hair color?"

Seiryo growled, but regained his composure. "If I were in your position, I would be more concerned with my own health and safety than with anyone else's appearance."

"If you were in my position, you probably wouldn't be alone." She waited for a moment before the Juraian figured out the insult, and then his face reddened. "Gee, your blush and your hair color don't match. Have you discussed that with a cosmetician?"

"That will be enough, Ryoko. Baiting him gets quickly tedious."

Ryoko turned to study the older woman. "You look familiar, somehow. Have we met?"

The woman waved nonchalantly. "Oh, yes, but it's been a long time. Perhaps you will remember my son easier, particularly since you were in his...employ...for such a long time."

It took only a moment for the clues to fall into place: the silvery hair, the golden eyes, the reference to her son. "Naja Akara!" She spit the name out, and felt her own face flushing — with rage.

"I see you do remember me, after all. Maybe you should call me Grandma, since my son was so much like a father to you." Her grin was wicked and cold.

"My husband sent that bastard straight to Hell," Ryoko hissed. "And if you'd have been there he'd have sent you, too!"

Naja clucked genially. "Kagato always did draw out the best and worst in people."

"Just before he killed them!"

"Everyone dies, sooner or later. He merely...facilitated...the natural course of events."

Ryoko ignited her energy sword — only to watch it fizzle and vanish. "What the hell?"

"As to your sword: there is an energy-dampening field around this chamber, so your Power attributes are unavailable. Now, be a dear and step onto that platform, or I will be forced to electrocute that charming princess." Naja brandished the keypad, her thumb menacingly on the buttons. Ryoko looked at Ayeka, who pointed grimly to a mechanism fastened around her ankle.

Ryoko snorted in disgust. She had screwed up, big time.

##########

Ryoko and Ayeka sat on opposite corners of the platform. Each now wore a bracelet around an ankle, a hasty construction containing two sealed boxes. One component was a psuedospace transceiver, and thus had unlimited range; the other component was an energy cell with enough voltage to stun Ryoko and kill Ayeka. It was a guarantee of good behavior.

They had been sharing information, watching the occasional K'vimm soldier lumber past their cage, watching the city lights glowing brighter beyond the windows.

"I thought she'd died a long time ago," Ryoko said, shaking her head. "It figures she'd be involved with some grand scheme to bring down the Emperor."

"And I failed to keep track of the various suitors my father picked for me. None of them take rejection very well — but to engage in treason..."

They were both silent for a while, until Ryoko indicated the floor grid. "You realize that there are probably microphones in there."

Ayeka shrugged. "Well, I certainly would put them in. However, I find this whole containment structure rather odd, don't you? The shield walls are transparent to certain frequencies of light, but closed to molecular passage. No air, no sound...very odd."

"Could it have been built by the K'vimm?"

"The thought had crossed my mind." She paused, watching a guard shuffle by. "How is our husband?"

Ryoko grinned. "Wide awake and mad as hell. And he has a few new talents, now. Very useful talents."

"And how useful might these new talents be?" Naja's voice echoed inside the forcefield. The wives exchanged glances, not surprised by the interruption — or the confirmed eavesdropping.

"Tell you what, Naja. I'd be willing to discuss this over some dinner. Manhattan is known for its hamburgers and pizza; why don't you get us something to eat, and we'll talk."

"Why don't I just close the ventilation to your cubicle, and then it becomes a moot point?" Ayeka would suffocate, of course; but Ryoko would not be immediately affected. They both wondered if Naja was aware of that fact.

"Your call," Ryoko shrugged.

A moment later the forcefield vanished, and both women climbed to their feet. "I need to use the ladies' room," Ayeka announced. No one objected, so she headed for the door. Ryoko wandered over to the window and looked down.

"If you are considering..."

"Yeah, I know, if I try to leave you zap us both. Can't I even stretch my legs? And when do we eat?"

##########

They had pushed two desks together, shoved everything, onto the floor, and gathered four chairs. Three pizza boxes lay open and half empty, a couple of wine bottles, and a stack of paper napkins. Ryoko ate enthusiastically, Ayeka nibbled at her slice, and their captors chewed in silence.

"Damn, this pizza is pretty good!" Ryoko said between slices. She washed the last mouthful down with a swig from her wine bottle. "The wine is tasty, too. I'd have preferred sake, but this stuff isn't bad. Aren't you going to eat?"

The last comment was aimed at Ayeka, whose rate of consumption was lower and slower than Ryoko's. "This is a bit too spicy for my palate," she finally replied. "Although I did try a cheese pizza once that was quite delicious."

"The more meat, the better," Ryoko said through a napkin. "Tell me, Naja, why did you pick New York? Isn't it kinda crowded around here? You're taking a big chance on getting seen."

"Sometimes it is more effective to hide in plain sight," Naja replied. "Besides, this way I have millions of potential hostages. And the energy output from this city masks my modest activities."

"_I_ found you easily enough."

"So you did..."

"You don't _eat_ food, you _inhale_ it!" Seiryo sneered. He was obviously appalled at Ryoko's rapid consumption.

She just grinned at him. "I prefer to enjoy life to the fullest. You never know how long it will last."

"Too true, Ryoko, Dear. Particularly with the kind of life you've lived," Naja said. She was still picking at her first slice.

Ryoko reached for another. "It has been exciting, that's for sure. Of course, that's all changed these days. Now that I'm married and respectable — "

"Thank you for reminding me. We kept our part of the bargain, now you fulfill yours."

Ayeka glared at Ryoko, but Ryoko just shrugged. "Ok. What do you want to know?"

"What talents has your husband recently discovered?"

"Why don't you just ask me directly?" Tenchi said from the shadows. He stepped into the light, pulling his hand away from his forehead, and the Emblem of Power shone dramatically.

Naja and Seiryo leaped away from the desks. Naja's fingers wrapped around the keypad, and Seiryo lifted an inverted T-shaped instrument. "Stop right there, Prince of Jurai!" Naja commanded.

Tenchi frowned and the keypad vanished from Naja's hand. It appeared on his open palm. He looked from it to the platform to his wives' ankle bracelets, and shook his head. The keypad and bracelets vanished. There was a burst of sparks from the floor of the platform, and it started smoking. Tenchi's wives joined him, each kissing the nearest cheek. "Sorry it took so long to get here. Thanks for stalling them."

"Not a problem," Ryoko replied.

"Perfect timing," Ayeka added.

"Confine them!" Seiryo commanded. With an all-too-familiar flourish, Naja gestured and a spectral keyboard appeared in front of her. Her hands danced over the keys and a glowing barrier appeared between the two groups. Tenchi gestured with his right hand, and a ball of blue-white light appeared. It uncoiled into the Lighthawk Sword, which he promptly thrust into the barrier. The shield flared and collapsed.

"Uh, oh," Naja muttered. She typed frantically, and two schematics appeared in the air above the keyboard. Tenchi stepped forwards, and Seiryo interposed himself between Tenchi and Naja. Seiryo activated the weapon he held, and a blade of energy emerged from the cross-guard. He settled into an _en garde_ stance.

"We never did have a proper contest, did we?" Seiryo snarled. "Come and receive a lesson from a true swordsman!"

Tenchi sighed irritably.

Naja studied the schematics and blanched. Her fingers typed furiously on the keys and a dimensional doorway appeared beside her. She looked up as her keyboard vanished, and said, "My advice to you, m'lad, it to beat a hasty retreat. And to you three: give my regards to Washu!" She hobbled into the doorway, which promptly disappeared.

Tenchi looked at Ayeka, and they both looked at Ryoko. "Hey, I didn't know she could do that! I thought Washu was the only one with those abilities!"

"Face me, you coward!" Seiryo demanded.

"God, what a week," Tenchi groaned. "Tell me, Lord Seiryo, did you kidnap Princess Ayeka?"

"Yes," Seiryo answered.

"And did you lay hands on her?"

"I tried to," he admitted sheepishly. But then he threw back his shoulders, and said, "And I'd do it again!"

"And you threatened the lives of both Princess Ayeka and Princess Ryoko?"

"Yes, I don't deny it!"

"Then I consider this a Challenge," Tenchi replied.

"Excellent! Now fight me, man-to-man!"

Tenchi pointed the Lighthawk Sword at Seiryo, whose weapon vanished in a flash of blue-white light.

"Where is my sword?" Seiryo demanded.

"I just teleported it two kilometers away — straight down."

"Oh...damn..." The building suddenly shook, and the ground far below rumbled.

Ayeka giggled and Ryoko cackled. They both realized (along with Seiryo) that his energy sword had materialized inside solid rock. The resulting explosion was in the megaton range.

"Tenchi, are you going to kill him now?" Ryoko purred.

"No, he must stand trial for his treason," Ayeka insisted.

"I'll not accept either option!" Seiryo announced — and bolted for the door.

Ryoko teleported in front of him, cold-cocking him with one punch. She casually draped him over her shoulder and strolled back to her family.

"Let's go home," Tenchi said. He released the sword, which writhed and contorted and morphed into the Lighthawk Wings. His arms snaked around his wives' waists, who watched as each wing expanded and merged with its mates and englobed them all. They were now inside a cocoon of blue light, where gravity had suddenly ceased.

"Oh, wow!" Ryoko exclaimed.

"I can't see anything," Ayeka complained.

Tenchi initiated a mind link to each of them. In his mind he visualized each woman, and then overlaid a visor on their faces. They now saw what he did: they were rapidly rising through the floors of the building, bursting suddenly into the night sky. They looked downwards, watching New York City dwindle beneath them. Fluorescent clouds spilled over them, and the curve of the planet became more pronounced as they rocketed skyward. The entire northeastern coast of the United States soon became visible. Tenchi headed north, steering for the pole along the great circle route. Above them the stars glistened like diamonds.

"Oh, this is wonderful!" Ayeka marveled. She clung to her husband, feeling Power rippling around her in waves. They soared across the roof of the world, like angels.

"So this is what it's like!" Ryoko said. She had never flown so fast in her life, and her imagination provided wind to course through her hair.

Ahead of them the sun was starting to peep over the arctic ice, which sparkled like fireworks as sunlight reflected off ten trillion faceted surfaces. In seconds they had crossed the terminator and were traveling high above the Bering Sea. "We'll be home soon," he said. He was surprised by their disappointment.

##########

The citizens of Jurai answered the Imperial summons, and gathered on the flagstone patio of the Masaki Shrine. By rights, every person on Earth was a servant of the crown, but as they didn't know yet they were excused from attendance. Scientists, botanists, pilots, everyone gathered, spreading blankets on the ground and settling down for a meeting of unguessable length. The afternoon sun shone brightly, warming the springtime air of the mountains. The wind shuffled the trees, and the clouds marched overhead in majestic stillness, paying homage to the Royal Family.

The Masaki family gathered quietly along the edge of the wooden portico, clustered loosely around Yosho and Tenchi. Among them stood a naval officer in full dress uniform. None of them smiled, and conversation was sparse. The crowd noted this and mumbled to itself accordingly.

At the appropriate time, Yosho walked quietly onto the veranda. All conversation ceased, and all assembled rose and bowed. He returned the bow, and motioned for them to sit. He waited quietly until silence had again settled over the patio.

"You have been summoned to hear grave news, and to witness the consequences. Ten days ago, a dimensional doorway created by our galactic neighbors, the K'vimm, was opened inside the confines of the Juraian solar system. A lone vessel entered Juraian space and sat for three days, before Empress Misaki approached the vessel in her Royal Tree-ship Kirin. The vessel was apparently a lure, and was waiting for just such an occurrence. It blew up, revealing a mechanism of unknown design used to paralyze the remaining Tree Ships in the system. An assault force immediately exited the doorway and opened fire on all Imperial Naval units in the vicinity. Several vessels were destroyed — including the flagship, Kirito, with Emperor Azusa aboard."

Yosho waited for the startled buzz from the crowd to die down before continuing. "Empress Misaki was injured, but survived. Empress Funaho assumed command of the Imperial forces. The admiralty promptly dispatched a host of couriers," he indicated the naval officer, "just before the K'vimm instituted a complete blockade of the system. We have received no word since."

A ripple of concern passed among the crowd, but Yosho raised his hands before it had a chance to gather momentum. "Obviously, we are now in a state of war. And just as obviously, the Empire needs a strong hand to guide it. While Empress Funaho is capable, the law is clear: the Crown Prince must now ascend to the throne. However, as many of you know, I am bound to this world for another eighteen months at least. I cannot fulfill my obligations. Therefore, to expedite the line of succession, particularly in light of the current crisis, I have summoned you all here to witness the following declaration." Yosho unrolled a parchment, of the kind used exclusively for proclamations. "I, Yosho Jurai, firstborn son of Azusa and Funaho, do immediately abdicate my inherited position as Crown Prince of the Empire of Jurai. I agree to forfeit all the rights and responsibilities, privileges and perquisites of my office, and do pass these on to my grandson, Tenchi Masaki."

In the stunned silence, Yosho put his stamp on the document, and slowly rolled it up. "A copy will be kept in safeguard here at the Shrine, and another will be sent with the courier to Admiral Mobinita's fleet off Pluto, to be taken back to Jurai under guard. All hail Crown Prince Sir Tenchi Masaki!" He turned and knelt before Tenchi, who had come up beside him. The entire Masaki family, plus the naval courier and the leaders of the science station, all knelt to the future Emperor. While it was a solemn moment, those closest to the verandah could see a faint smile on Yosho's face, and everyone could see the happy faces of Tenchi's wives.

Tenchi remained stoic, however, his face a mask.

**ACT 3 - REFINING THE EDGE**

_The Queen of Light took her bow.  
And then she turned to go.  
The Prince of Peace embraced the gloom  
And walked the night alone._

_Dance in the dark of night.  
Sing to the morning light.  
The Dark Lord rides in force tonight  
And time will tell us all._

_Throw down your plow and hoe.  
Rest not till you're goin' home.  
Side by side we walk the night.  
The darkest of them all._

_I hear the horses thunder  
Down in the valley below.  
I'm waiting for the angels of Avalon  
Waiting for the eastern glow._

The apples of the valley hold  
The seeds of happiness.  
The ground is rich from tender care.  
Repay, do not forget, no, no.

_Dance in the dark of night.  
Sing to the morning light.  
The apples turn to brown and black.  
The tyrant's face is red._

_War is the common cry  
Pick up your swords and fight  
The sky is filled with good and bad  
That mortals never know._

_Oh, well, the night is long  
The beads of time pass slow.  
Tired eyes on the sunrise  
Waiting for the eastern glow._

_The pain of war cannot exceed  
The woe of aftermath.  
The drums will shake the castle wall  
The Ringwraiths ride in black._

_Ride on.  
War is the common ground.  
Ride on._

_Pick up your swords and fight.  
No comfort has the fire at night.  
That lights the face so cold._

Dance in the dark of night.  
Sing to the morning light.

_The magic runes are writ in gold  
To bring the balance back.  
Bring it back._

_At last the sun is shining  
The clouds are blue and white.  
With flames from the dragon of darkness  
The sunlight blinds his eyes._

_Bring it back.  
Bring it back, bring it back, bring it back.  
Bring it back, bring it back, now, now, now._

_Bring it, bring it, bring it, bring it._

Title: "Battle of Evermore"  
Artist: Heart (Lovemongers)  
Words and Lyrics: Led Zeppelin (Jimmy Page & Robert Plant) 

"The long-range probes have returned, Admiral," Balinor reported. "Uploading has commenced."

"Very well." Mobinita had parked the task force out in the Juraian Oort Cloud, spread his pickets and sensors, and sent one or two probes skirting deeper in-system on discreet orbits, all the better to sneak a peek without getting detected — or shot at. He wanted current information about K'vimm deployments, rather than relying on obsolete data.

He also wanted some solid information to pass along to the Crown Prince. He found working with the future emperor to be far less arduous than he had first imagined. The young man knew little about naval tactics, and said so up-front. But he wasn't stupid, either; he asked intelligent questions, digested the answers carefully, and made no attempt to interfere with how Mobinita ran his command. But he also minced no words about who had the final say — this whole operation fell upon his young shoulders, and he accepted the responsibility without complaint. All very exemplary traits. That he was also personable and charismatic, and that the younger officers and crew were warming to him rapidly, didn't hurt anything either. He had to admit that he liked Crown Prince Sir Tenchi Masaki.

"Upload and analysis completed."

"Put it on-screen," Mobinita replied. Balinor placed a detailed schematic on a large floating pane, festooned with colored blips, shaded turf, and sparse verbiage. The image looked remarkably like a cancerous cell: the K'vimm had established an egg-shaped zone of occupation, anchored on the sunward-side by Homeworld, and enclosing a massive (or gigantic, or immense, or hideous, or any of a dozen other descriptives) dimensional doorway further out. Hundreds of ships patrolled this volume of space, defining a perimeter that effectively sealed-in the Imperial capitol. A screen of Juraian vessels could be seen defending Homeworld and its moons. Mobinita swore softly.

"There are approximately 750 K'vimm vessels blockading the planet Jurai," Balinor explained, "and approximately one-third of those are galleon class capitol ships. The majority of heavy elements are divided evenly between guarding the dimensional doorway and engaging elements of Home Fleet, with the remainder stationed at strategic points along the outer perimeter. There is extensive damage to the orbiting industrial facilities, as well as a lack of observable activity at the boundary commercial space stations. An analysis of debris clouds in the disputed area suggests that a temporary stalemate has been achieved after extensive fighting."

It was painfully obvious that the doorway's appearance had caught Home Fleet completely by surprise, and a whole battle fleet had swarmed out of the dimensional portal and overwhelmed the defending squadrons. Assuming that the commanding fleet admiral survived, he/she would face a court martial when the dust settled. First and foremost, though, was the doorway — they needed to close it to prevent reinforcements from arriving. "How close is that doorway to the jump drive boundary?"

"The dimensional doorway is nine light-minutes sunward of the boundary."

Mobinita cursed again. Modern deep-space mariners shared many of the same problems as their ancient deep-water forebears. For the sailors of old, the size of the hull was the basic yardstick: when approaching the shoreline, they had to be ever mindful of the rising seabed lest they run aground in the shallow waters. The modern sailor used the jump field diameter as the basic yardstick: when entering the gravity well created by large concentrations of mass (such as stars), the energy requirements to maintain the field increased exponentially until the generators failed. The deep-water sailor had two options to get his cargo ashore: offload it to smaller draft vessels, or locate a harbor (whether natural or man-made). The deep-space sailor faced two similar options: use the sub-light engines to reach the final destination (which was expensive in transit time), or transfer the cargo to smaller vessels at a space station. The space station was by far the most common solution; these huge structures were built in solar orbits where the slope of the gravity well became too steep to be dealt with. As a rule of thumb, this transitional boundary was usually three to five AU from the primary star, or approximately the orbit of the fifth planet. And the K'vimm doorway was well inside the transitional boundary, meaning that his task force could not drop out of psuedospace and open fire on it. They would have to use the sub-light drives to get within shooting range, running a gauntlet of K'vimm warships for the entire distance. And his task force stood no chance against so many galleons. "How soon before our frontier squadrons arrive?"

"Twenty-three days at best estimate, assuming immediate departure."

The war would be over in 23 days. Home Fleet was taking a pounding, unable to replace its own losses, while K'vimm reserves could be summoned quickly through the doorway...or doubled...or tripled. He didn't have to ask Balinor to know that Jurai would be forced to surrender in the next few days, or face possible nuclear bombardment from orbit. Immediate action was required.

Mobinita ordered Balinor to open a communications channel to Ryo-ohki.

##########

"Ok, Ladies, it's about Show Time." Tenchi had been standing beside the large portal, looking at the formation around them. As he moved, the Emblem of Power appeared on his brow. The Lighthawk Wings appeared, hovering just before him, before merging together into one Wing. He stepped through it, the phosphorescent foam of Power coalescing into his shimmering Lighthawk Armor. Without hesitation, Ryoko stepped through the hovering Wing as her husband had done. She reappeared with her own armor hardening around her limbs. Ayeka stepped through seconds later.

Tenchi - _Ladies, I'm going to put Kiyone in armor, as well as giving her a link_

Ryoko_ - What! Why? This isn't a proposal, is it?_

Ayeka_ - Please explain your reasoning, Beloved_

Tenchi_ - No, I don't need another wife. I figured anyone who has to fight alongside Mihoshi ought to have every survival advantage available_

Ryoko_ - Oh. Yeah. Go ahead_

Ayeka_ - I agree — she will need all the help she can get_

Mihoshi appeared on the other side of the Wing, looking down at the lustrous carapace forming around her. She was about to explain to Kiyone what was going on when she saw her partner twitch once, spasmodically. Kiyone turned to stare at Tenchi, who just smiled back and gestured towards the floating Wing. Hesitantly, the GP officer stepped up to and through the Power manifestation. She gasped audibly as the blue-white fog settled around her, forming the combat armor that was so similar to what the other women were wearing. "Oh, wow — Kiyone gets Armor, too? Terrific!"

Tenchi - _Is everyone ready?_

Ryoko_ - Yep_

Ayeka_ - Yes, Beloved_

Mihoshi_ - Uh, huh_

Kiyone_ - Yes...although this takes some getting used to_

Tenchi_ - You'll do fine. A final reminder: this link, like the armor, will remain in place as long as I am alive. You will be able to communicate with each other, even though I will be somewhat preoccupied. Watch each other's backs, and work together. Ok, line up — it's ShowTime_

##########

The war room was a commandeered conference room where banks of computers had been added around the walls in a haphazard manner. What space wasn't eaten by the conference table and chairs was clogged with power conduits and snaking cables. One had to be careful how one maneuvered into the room, as well as extricating oneself from it.

Washu sat near the door, not only because she lacked seniority, but because it also gave her a better shot at escape when the stress or the boredom got too intense. Little Achika stirred contently in her chest pouch, occasionally gurgling in her sleep. Washu liked to play with the reddish tufts that floated out of the top of the pouch, enjoying their soft texture or nuzzling them with her chin. She missed the baby's father, as well as the three half-mothers that were with him.

"Washu, can I get you some tea?"

"Thank you, Sasami, that would be very nice." At 10-years-old, and naturally slight to begin with, the princess had no problem navigating through the clutter. She didn't fully fathom what was discussed here, but as a member of the Royal Family, and fourth in line for the throne, she had the right to be present. More often than not, she asked Washu for interpretations of events, or simply ran errands for the adults. Further into the room, closer to the center of the table, were the chairs traditionally reserved for the Emperor and his wives. Sadly, two of those seats would remain vacant for some time to come. Empress Funaho, however, made it her highest priority to be in attendance. At the moment, she was watching Washu blow puffs of wind into Achika's hair.

"Is my great-great-granddaughter awake?"

"No, Lady Funaho, she's not the least bit impressed by all of this."

"Smart girl...like her mother." Washu exchanged grins with Funaho. They had gotten along well since their first meeting, on a set of stone steps too many light years away to think about. Where Washu brought raw intellect into the family, Funaho had brought cunning and force of will. They complimented one another, a fact they had both recognized early. "Ah, thank you Sasami. Very well, let's get this meeting started." Military uniforms and civilians alike hustled into their chairs, and very soon the room's climate controller (already burdened by the extra electronics) was straining to keep up.

"Thank you," Washu whispered to Sasami, and set the drink on the table. Sasami slipped into her own chair, placing a teacup on the table beside Washu's. Princess Achika murmured in her sleep, and Princess Sasami giggled quietly at the expression on her face.

"Admiral Nogumo, any word yet from Admiral Mobinita's task force?'

"Yes, Your Majesty. They have just dropped into realspace. They will be reaching the outer perimeter of the K'vimm blockade within the hour." The crusty old warrior made a motion to his adjutant, who's fingers danced across the keyboard on his lap. A large monitor flickered into existence above the table, and schematics appeared. "His task force is not only intact, but he is accompanied by the Galaxy Police cruiser Yukinojo and the royal yacht Ryo-ohki."

Washu, Funaho, and Sasami exchanged glances. "Any word about Prince Tenchi or his entourage?" Funaho asked.

"Mobinita's communiqué mentioned that Sir Tenchi was instrumental in the destruction of a K'vimm squadron — in fact, it states he destroyed half the force by himself."

Funaho's eyes locked with Washu's, both running parallel calculations. "Washu, can you speculate on just how he might have accomplished such a feat, considering what happened when Emperor Azusa confronted the first K'vimm units?"

"I can only guess that he's harnessed some new property of the Lighthawk Wings. As to specifics, I can't imagine. But whatever it is, it must be pretty damn effective." Washu's pride was obvious, mirrored by the young princess beside her.

"Please continue, Admiral Nogumo."

Nogumo nodded, indicating the monitor. "The K'vimm are doing their best to jam communications, so details are sketchy at best. But our own sensors have managed to confirm this." The image on the screen swelled in size, until the only figure visible was a slowly rotating cone composed of two dozen small dots. As they watched, each of the dots sprouted a label and verbiage. "This is the formation Mobinita's forces have assumed."

"A cone?" Funaho asked.

"While a little out-of-date, it is still a very practical arrangement for concentrating maximum firepower while offering optimum protection. His units are not big enough to establish over-lapping shields, but by rotating the entire formation around the center axis he can minimize the amount of time any one ship is exposed to a given threat. Of course, the major emphasis of this formation is upon convergent fire — multiple ships all attacking the same target simultaneously. It would seem a questionable tactical move in a sky full of targets."

"Unless they don't expect to encounter 'a sky full of targets.'"

"Which ship is at the vertex?" Washu asked.

"Ryo-ohki, Sir Tenchi's flagship," Admiral Nogumo read from the screen, "which seems a bit unusual." Not to Washu, it wasn't: doubtless Ryoko was spoiling for a fight, and just as doubtless Tenchi was willing to indulge her. "And Yukinojo is in the third tier down from the vertex, alongside Admiral Mobinita's flagship Balinor."

"Excuse me, Admiral," the adjutant interrupted, "but we are getting an incoming transmission from the task force, unscrambled, commercial as well as military bands." Other displays appeared in the air, all projecting the same image. "It must be a very powerful generator to burn through the K'vimm jamming."

Replicated around the room was a view of the command deck of Ryo-ohki. Tenchi was seated in the pilot's chair, and around him stood Ryoko, Ayeka, Mihoshi, and Kiyone. They all wore Lighthawk Armor and matching predatory grins. Washu's heart leaped to see them all alive and well...although she did wonder why Kiyone was included in this grouping.

"To the K'vimm forces who are presently occupying Juraian space: this is Crown Prince Sir Tenchi Masaki, warning you to leave now or be destroyed. This is your one and only warning. Alpha circuit." The last statement was a command to all military units to switch to the standard secure channel. Most of the monitors in the room flickered off, but the few that remained lit added a small glyph in the lower right corner that indicated an encrypted transmission. "Well, Admiral, do you expect any response from the K'vimm?"

Admiral Mobinita's face opened in a panel in the lower left corner. "No, Your Highness, they are a singularly uncommunicative lot."

Tenchi shrugged. "We had to try. Very well, proceed according to plan. Please pass along my compliments to all the commanders and their crews, and wish them good luck and good hunting."

"Yes, Your Highness. The same to you."

"And to any sunside forces who can pick-up this transmission, we're going to stir up some trouble out along the perimeter. If you see an opportunity to distract our K'vimm guests in the next few hours, we would surely appreciate it. Tenchi out." The screens went blank.

Washu and Funaho exchanged glances.

"_Crown_ Prince Tenchi? Has something happened to Yosho?" Funaho asked.

"I have no idea," Washu replied.

"Admiral, how soon till that formation makes contact with the leading K'vimm elements?"

"No more than fifteen minutes, Your Majesty. In fact..." he looked at a small readout to his left, "...they are accelerating as we speak. K'vimm forces are beginning to sortie for an interception. _Major_ K'vimm forces. Looks like they monitored His Highness's broadcast."

"Send word to the fleet to be prepared for immediate engagement. Let's give His Highness and Admiral Mobinita a chance to get the ball rolling, but be ready to offer support." Funaho was about to add something else when she noticed the expressions on Washu's and Sasami's faces.

Tenchi - _Washu? Sasami? Can you hear me?_

Sasami_ - Yes!_

Washu_ - We hear you just fine. Your range is improving, I see_

Tenchi_ - We can discuss that later. Ladies, I need your help_

Washu_ - For you, anything_

Tenchi_ - Washu, can you get one of your sunbuster bombs ready in the next hour or so?_

Washu_ - Yes. Why?_

Tenchi_ - A gift for the K'vimm. Sasami, where is Tsunami?_

Sasami_ - Approaching quickly. She'll be here within the hour_

Tenchi_ - Can Tsunami get past the blockade while cloaked?_

Sasami_ - Yes. Why?_

Tenchi_ - I need her to bring me the sunbuster bomb_

Washu_ - Only if I come along to arm it_

Tenchi_ - I expected that. You might want to bring along a long-range probe as well_

Sasami_ - Where and when, Tenchi?_

Tenchi_ - I'll be in touch in the next couple of hours. I'm going to be rather busy in the meantime..._

Washu_ - Just be careful_

Sasami_ - Yes, be very careful_

Tenchi_ – Always_

"Washu? Are you feeling alright?"

Washu blinked a couple of times, and then exchanged grins with Sasami. "Never better!"

##########

Tenchi stood slowly, turning. He opened his arms as Ryoko slipped into them. A hug, a kiss, and a whispered farewell. Ayeka followed, and then Mihoshi. He shook hands with Kiyone, and wished her good luck. Then he stepped away from them, summoning the full Power at his command. The wings appeared, stretching and englobing him in their blue-white embrace. And then he was gone.

"We'd better get back to Yukinojo," Kiyone said quietly. Mihoshi sniffed once and nodded.

"Good luck," Ayeka said. Ryoko echoed her.

##########

"His Highness has left the flagship," Balinor said. "He is approaching the leading K'vimm primary on an intercept vector. Time to contact: eight seconds."

"Open a channel to all task force units and pipe it to the main board. I want to see my captains."

"Acknowledged." One entire wall of the strategic bridge was blanketed by ghostly panels, each showing the operations center of a ship in the formation. Of those displayed, the most striking were the images from Ryo-ohki and Yukinojo: each of the occupants wore glowing Lighthawk Armor. Mobinita had heard of this, but had never seen it. Most impressive. It felt good to be fighting with the Royal Family again.

##########

"What is _that_?" Admiral Nogumo asked. The miniscule sphere was racing ahead of the formation at incredible speed, and the computer was forced to rapidly redraw the schematic in an effort to keep everything in the image.

"Unknown," his adjutant replied. "But our sensors register it as a Power manifestation."

"Confirmed," said another officer.

"Source?"

"It came from Ryo-ohki. It doesn't match any torpedo configuration in our library."

"That's no torpedo," Washu exclaimed, "That's Tenchi!" She pushed the teacups out of the way and gestured over the empty table space, where her spectral keyboard materialized. Her fingers danced excitedly over the keys, and small schematics appeared in the space over the table. She started cackling, a smile spreading from ear to ear.

"What is he doing, Washu?" Funaho asked.

"Oh, this ought to be good!" she replied.

##########

The K'vimm dreadnought was enormous, a mountain of metal and mayhem. Tenchi's altered perception saw it as a multi-layered structure coursing with energies, and honeycombed with chambers and halls and symmetrical tunnels. Life forms skittered throughout the vessel, like agitated ants. With an effort, he ignored the crew and concentrated on locating the reactor, seeking the heart of the ship.

The dreadnought opened fire on him, raking him and his path with energies that would vaporize granite. Such threats couldn't harm him, so he dismissed them. Tenchi was almost upon the monster, and was awed by its size.

But size couldn't protect it.

##########

"K'vimm galleon destroyed. His Highness has been reacquired, now targeting nearest K'vimm primary. Contact imminent."

Mobinita watched with interest. K'vimm ships were racing to intercept them, doubtless expecting an easy victory over a motley collection of cruisers and destroyers. _Ah, the element of surprise was surely the great equalizer. Keep coming, you bastards, there's plenty to go around._

"Second K'vimm galleon destroyed. Third primary targeted. Contact imminent."

##########

"Gods, there goes another one!" Admiral Nogumo gasped, straining his composure.

Funaho watched open-mouthed. Azusa had been killed and Misaki had been critically wounded by these creatures, and here her great-grandson was ripping through them like a white-hot poker. She finally found her voice. "Admiral, how soon before the task force reaches the perimeter?"

"Two minutes, Your Majesty."

"Washu, have you figured out what your husband is doing out there?"

"I have a pretty good idea, Lady Funaho. And if I'm right, there's no defense against it. The tide is about to turn in our favor."

"There goes another one! And another!"

##########

"Fourth K'vimm target destroyed by direct effects, fifth target destroyed by collateral damage. Secondaries are maneuvering away from the combat zone. His Highness is employing a spiral pattern outwards from the first point of contact."

"Well, that's what he'd told us he was going to do. How close are we?" Mobinita asked.

"Maximum firing range in 30 seconds, optimum firing range in 45 seconds."

"Princess Ryoko?"

"Yes, Admiral?"

"As captain of the flagship, would you do us the honor of launching the first salvo?"

"It would be my distinct pleasure, Admiral. Thank you."

Mobinita savored the irony. He had been a wet-behind-the-ears ensign in the Imperial Navy when this cyan-haired woman had attacked Homeworld seven centuries earlier. Incredibly, she had slipped through the same defensive layers that had recently caught and held the K'vimm. She had caused catastrophic damage to the capitol city, scorched a fair-sized chunk of the surrounding landmass, and had erased a high percentage of the home fleet. And now here she was, married to the heir, and willing to fight just as hard to protect the people that had forgiven her. The Hand of Fate was truly an unpredictable force to be reckoned with. "Balinor, track Ryo-ohki's first salvo and direct all weapons to the same target. Successive targets to be determined by greatest threat assessment. Select K'vimm secondary units when possible. Convergent fire when possible. Complete global coverage."

"Acknowledged." Balinor was going to be very busy for a while: not only was the AI assisting Captain Istanaka with combat functions, but it was calculating a continuing series of course corrections for every ship in the formation to maintain station, as well as feeding constant figures to each ship's fire control computers. "We are now in range."

"This one is for Tenchi," Ryoko's relayed image said. "Ryo-ohki: fire!"

An energy bolt rippled away from the formation at lightspeed, impacting the shields of the K'vimm frigate and generating eye-popping auroras. The alien's shields were tough, though, and could handle the single assault well enough; but they could _not_ withstand the hundreds of beams that arrived a heartbeat later. In fractions of a second the shields overloaded and collapsed, the outer hull vaporized, and the inner hull imploded at dozens of points. Rivers of photons burned their way through the center of the vessel and beyond, releasing pressurized gasses to the vacuum. The ship's reactor was pierced in five places, and it detonated in a fireball that consumed the entire vessel. An expanding cloud of charred fragments and ionized dust were all that remained.

Within three seconds two nearby K'vimm frigates were blasted into oblivion, and the guns of the task force began hunting for prey in earnest.

##########

"All K'vimm forces at the point of interception have been destroyed," the adjutant informed them.

"Where's the Crown Prince now?" Funaho asked.

"He has changed course, and is heading for the K'vimm dimensional doorway. He's just destroyed his fourteenth ship. Their forces are regrouping nine light-minutes downrange, either to attempt to overwhelm him or to defend the doorway."

"What about the forces on the inner perimeter?"

"They are being redeployed. Heavier elements are being pulled back to the doorway."

"Admiral, wouldn't this be a good time to start those distractions the Crown Prince mentioned?"

"I was thinking the same thing, Your Majesty," Admiral Nogumo replied, grinning wolfishly.

"So that's his plan," Washu said thoughtfully. "Brilliant. Come on, Sasami, we have an errand to run."

##########

"We have reached the breach, Admiral," Balinor reported.

"Thank you. Ladies and Gentlemen, His Highness was gracious enough to open a door through their perimeter, and it would be bad manners on our part to refuse his invitation. Execute the course change, Balinor."

Every ship in the task force stopped shooting as the stream of data broadcast from the heavy cruiser assumed a new priority.

From the command deck of Ryo-ohki, the rear view was spectacular. As the vertex of the cone, the task force literally revolved around her, and as her position in space changed so did the ships slaved to her wake. The stars appeared to spin in a dizzy pirouette, though in reality the ships in the formation were executing a complicated three-dimensional spiral. The Juraian sun swam across the sky, from the forward quarter to a position abeam. Facing them now was a growing collection of wrecks and debris clouds, breadcrumbs left by the blue-white sphere on its march to the far-distant dimensional doorway. Specks of light could be seen and identified as K'vimm vessels attempting to stop the Crown Prince.

"Realignment completed. Returning to combat mode. Assuming new course and accelerating along planned vectors."

##########

Combat is often described as long hours of monotony divided by moments of extreme terror.

"You wanna go over that again?" Ryoko yawned.

Ayeka nodded. She was using balls of yarn laid out on the floor as markers. "Perhaps a visual reference will help. These two represent Sasami and I. This one is Misaki Jurai, our mother. Her parents are Seto and Utsumi Kamiki."

"I've heard of Lady Seto," Ryoko said. "Didn't they call her the 'Ogre Princess?' She's supposed to be ungodly strong."

"Quite right. She broke several of my grandfather's bones during some of their, er, intimate activities."

"Which would explain your mother's strength — and your ability to keep up with me."

Ayeka's nod was noncommittal. "Grandfather Utsumi married into House Kamiki and assumed their surname — "

"Shouldn't Tenchi have done that? Tenchi Masaki Jurai?"

"Yes, he should. And he will probably have to when he's crowned emperor. Which means our names will change, too."

"Does that make yours Ayeka Jurai Masaki Jurai?" Ryoko smirked.

Ayeka rolled her eyes. "I'll let the College of Heralds make that decision. Anyway, this is Lady Seto's father, Ushio Kamiki. Lady Seto was an orphan when he found and adopted her. He was quite strong, too."

"Must be something in the water," Ryoko muttered.

Ayeka restacked the yarn balls. "Now for my father's side of the family. This is Emperor Azusa Jurai. This is his sister, Kasumi Jurai. This is his mother, Amame Jurai, and his father, Kazuki Yotsuga..."

##########

There was little for the crew to do but wait, as the ship fought and danced like a metal marionette.

"Mihoshi, what are you doing?"

"I'm keeping track of Tenchi. According to Balinor, he's just destroyed his twenty-third enemy ship!"

Kiyone shook her head. During their tours together, Mihoshi had always been something of a ditz. Not a total idiot, really, just scatterbrained enough to be downright annoying. But when she rose to the occasion, it was _always_ spectacular. Her empathic talents proved extremely useful during interviews and interrogations, and her blind luck had saved their tails more than once. She had earned her commendations, absolutely. But meeting and marrying the heir to the Juraian Empire (never mind sharing that privilege with four other Power adepts) was simply an incredible achievement, even for her. Kiyone's emotions were tied to a pendulum that swung between envy and awe. Power, prestige, plum assignments, promotions...

So where did that leave Kiyone? Well, assuming she survived the next few days, the best she could expect was to be back out on patrol. And for some reason, that thought was unsettling. After all, she'd been considered _dead_ for three years, long enough for everyone to mourn her passing and move on — except for the blonde in the pilot's seat. Even Kiyone had to admit, the one person who'd never given up on her was her partner. And friend.

Kiyone sighed.

Ryoko - _How are you two doing over there?_

Kiyone_ - Kinda bored, really. What about you?_

Ryoko_ - Ayeka is telling me all about her family history. I'm almost asleep_

Ayeka_ - You really should pay more attention, since it involves our husband's family_

Ryoko_ - Tenchi is all the family I need_

Mihoshi_ - He just destroyed his thirtieth ship!_

Ayeka_ - Remarkable_

Ryoko_ - Damn, I've gotta remember to ask him how he does that_

Kiyone_ - Let me get this right: you all lived in the same house before you got married?_

Ryoko_ - Yep_

Ayeka_ - The circumstances were unusual, to say the least_

Mihoshi_ - Nothing about Tenchi is 'usual'_

Ryoko_ - Amen to that. Wish we had some sake around here_

Mihoshi_ - Oh, I have some in Yukinojo's galley!_

Ryoko_ - __**Now**__ you tell me…_

##########

Starships fly. Starships die.

Mobinita's cone sailed through a target-rich environment, shooting at everything that moved. Wrecked ships and radioactive dust clouds formed a glittering necklace in the interplanetary medium. The task force maintained a constant acceleration, making it increasingly difficult for enemy ships behind them to pose a threat. Some of the faster, corvette-sized vessels did manage to get close enough to cross Balinor's comfort zone, and were met with the combined fire of the formation's stern batteries. Balinor also seeded their trail with mines, and the occasional explosion from astern provided evidence that the trick was working. Still, they received casualties, some serious. "Admiral, I have been analyzing the K'vimm tactics, and I have noticed an increasing shift towards lateral assaults."

"Elaborate, please."

"They are attempting to attack from the sides, thus forcing us to abandon convergent targeting and deal with multiple threats. This is the primary weakness of a conical tactical deployment."

"Can they succeed?"

"Unlikely. At our present velocity, it is too difficult to intercept and maintain contact long enough to inflict any critical damage. They are passing astern too quickly."

"They expect us to begin decelerating once we reach midpoint, at which time they can swarm over us."

"That is a logical assumption."

"Then they're in for another surprise. Keep monitoring their movements, and let me know of any further indications."

"Acknowledged."

##########

"Current status, Admiral Nogumo?"

"Admiral Mobinita's task force continues to accelerate, Your Majesty. We detect no major casualties in their formation, and we are beginning to pick-up internal transmissions. K'vimm jamming is beginning to break down."

"What about K'vimm casualties?"

"The Crown Prince has just accounted for his forty-ninth warship. He has been concentrating on their galleons, leaving the secondaries for Admiral Mobinita. A very successful strategy up to this point."

"Shouldn't they be slowing down soon?"

"We expect that, Your Majesty, but so must the K'vimm, who are placing most of their forces close to the dimensional doorway. They must be confident of overwhelming Mobinita's task force."

"What about the home fleet?"

"They have broken through the sunside perimeter in four places, and are attempting flanking maneuvers on the remaining K'vimm vessels."

Funaho studied the schematics, letting the facts settle into her mind where her intuition could grasp them fully. At first glance, the battle was becoming a K'vimm rout, but something worried her. "The Crown Prince seems awfully isolated..."

"Indeed, Your Majesty. But more K'vimm are fleeing from him than staying to fight. His appearance has totally decimated their morale and boosted our own."

The Empress of Jurai gnawed at her lip as she watched the monitors.

##########

The attack was sudden, vicious, and totally unexpected.

A K'vimm corvette streaked past the task force at an unbelievable rate of speed, spilling hundreds of small canisters into its path. Balinor recognized the wildly maneuvering objects and opened fire with the formation's anti-personnel batteries, spraying needles of energy into the cluster.

"What are those things — mines?" Mobinita demanded.

"No, Admiral, they are troop transport tubes. We are being boarded."

Half the task force rolled through the cloud of canisters, unleashing volleys of blaster fire. But there were so many of them that dozens got close enough to make contact with the formation's defensive shields. Bursts of energy appeared, forcing local contraction of a shield and allowing the canister to adhere directly to a hull. It took only seconds to burn through the metal and inject the contents into a Juraian vessel.

"Status?" Mobinita barked.

"Intruders aboard eleven vessels. Marines have been dispatched in all but two instances to deal with the threat."

"What are the two exceptions?"

"Ryo-ohki and Yukinojo."

Mobinita searched the wall of images until he located the two images in question. Both screens were filled with movement and energy discharges. He blanched when he realized that three of the Crown Prince's consorts were now in dire peril.

##########

Kiyone popped-up from behind the console and opened fire, her pistol spitting blobs of radiant plasma at the armored attackers spilling onto the bridge. They were insect-shaped, shorter and wider than humans. They were having some difficulty slipping through the hatch, which gave her an extra second to aim. Her target staggered under the round that hit its chest, and collapsed. It lay on the deck, twitching, kicking its comrades. Another K'vimm fell as Mihoshi pumped a round into it.

"How many are there?" Mihoshi yelled from her position behind a stanchion.

"There are six intruders aboard," Yukinojo replied. "I am unable to use the defensive systems due to the proximity of the crew."

"I got one!" Kiyone called. "That leaves five."

"And I got one, which leaves four!" Mihoshi replied. She dropped to one knee and leaned around the stanchion, taking a shot at another intruder's head.

"Correction," Yukinojo drawled. "There are _four_ intruders, at present occupying the corridor abaft the bridge. I detect energy weapons as well as a chemical compound which — "

Whatever the AI was going to say was lost in an explosion as the hatch framework blew inward, falling in fragments onto the deck and the dead. A cloud of black smoke billowed about the chamber, and the ventilators kicked-in to deal with it. Energy bolts flashed both directions through the murk, weapons snarled, armored limbs banged into bulkheads, and humans coughed. The noise was deafening.

Kiyone - _Mihoshi! Look out!_

One of the intruders had grabbed the hatch and was using it as a shield, absorbing Mihoshi's pistol blasts as it charged forward. Another was hot on its heels, spraying random blasts at Kiyone to keep her pinned down. Except Kiyone refused to stay down; she ignored the erratic fire and place two carefully aimed rounds into the intruders. They crumpled like disjointed boulders.

Mihoshi_ - Kiyone, duck! _

The remaining two intruders had taken advantage of the distraction and slipped through the shattered doorway. They aimed their weapons at Kiyone's chest and fired. Twin beams of energy lanced outward and hit her squarely...and vanished. Amazed, she looked downwards to see the Lighthawk Armor casually dissipating the beams. Shock turned to fury, and she shot the closest intruder at the same time that Mihoshi burned the other.

"No remaining intruders," Yukinojo said. "I will inform Balinor of our status and then commence repairs."

##########

The blast wave caught Ryoko and Ayeka from behind, throwing them both forward into Ryo-ohki's control crystals. Several things flashed through Ryoko's mind in quick secession:

* Ryo-ohki howled in pain as the organic wall shredded, leaving a tear large enough for an armored K'vimm to crawl through.

* The pressurized atmosphere inside the command dome was doing its level best to evacuate through the hole — but was repeatedly blocked by a bulky figure squirming through the breach.

* There were now three of the horrors standing on the deck with their weapons poised, and a fourth was working its way inside.

* Ayeka was not injured, as she had reflexively erected her personal shield before impacting the console — but if the pressure loss was not stanched quickly then she would slowly suffocate inside her bubble.

* Ryoko herself was not injured, nor affected by the sudden pressure loss, but was royally pissed off.

She teleported across the command deck, materializing next to the tear. She staggered for a moment as the current of air roaring into space caught hold of her, then ignited her energy sword. The four insectoid intruders were unaware of her presence, and all had their backs to her. She stepped forward and swung the sword horizontal to the deck, cutting the nearest K'vimm in half at the thorax. The blade cauterized the wound it made, preventing any spray of fluids or tissue, so the convulsing alien failed to alert its companions. Ryoko grabbed the falling torso and shoved it headfirst into the hole. This plugged the leak, and the rushing winds subsided.

Unfortunately, the abrupt stillness alerted the three remaining K'vimm, who spun about and opened fire on her. She was in the midst of standing when the energy beams stitched a pattern from her hip to her shoulder. She gasped and looked down, expecting to see gaping wounds. Instead, she saw the beams sparking uselessly against her Lighthawk Armor. Then she felt another concussion wave, only this was one generated by an angry Juraian princess, and was directed into the undefended backs of the K'vimm. They slammed into the hull with enough force to break armored joints, crack pressure seals, and shatter bones.

"Are you injured, Ryoko?" Ayeka asked, seething with fury.

"Nah, I'm ok. Thanks to this," Ryoko replied, tapping the glowing breastplate.

"As usual, Tenchi's fears were well-founded. We should report our status to Admiral Mobinita immediately."

"I will, just as soon as I check on Ryo-ohki. And toss this trash back into space."

##########

"Admiral Mobinita's forces were just attacked, and they have sustained some casualties."

"Very serious?" asked Funaho.

"No, Your Majesty," Admiral Nogumo replied. "They remain on course, and are still firing upon any K'vimm vessel they encounter. Curiously, they have just passed the midpoint but show no signs of deceleration."

"What does that mean?"

"It appears that Admiral Mobinita intends to make a high-speed fly-by of the dimensional doorway."

"For what reason? He lacks the firepower to destroy it."

"By himself, yes — but the Crown Prince is aiding him, and he does appear to have the capability. Perhaps their sole intention from the start has been to coax the K'vimm back to the doorway. It is impossible to discern clearly at this point."

"And where is the Crown Prince?"

"Within 10,000 klicks of the doorway. It is getting very hard to locate him, due to the increasing number of K'vimm ships, the torrential amounts of energy being released, and the high density of debris filling the area. We have definite confirmation on his seventy-fourth victory, but that was three minutes ago — the number has probably risen since. An astounding achievement."

"And the home fleet?"

"We have full control of the inner planets again, and are harassing the retreating K'vimm."

##########

"Admiral, overall task force energy reserves will soon reach the marginal state."

Mobinita stood and stretched. The battle was well into its third hour, and the strains were starting to show in the hardware and wetware. The stars crawled visibly across the plates, they were moving so fast. The guns of the task force had not been needed in almost a quarter of an hour; they had outraced their pursuers, and space ahead of them was practically empty — until you got within spitting distance of the K'vimm's dimensional doorway. There were hundreds of vessels orbiting the giant structure, some engaged in defense, others performing an orderly withdrawal down its gaping maw. They were getting close enough to actually discern individual galleons stationed as pickets.

Of the Crown Prince, there was no sign. His last reported position had been within a dozen klicks of the doorway, raising merry hell and panicking the K'vimm ship captains. Then he had simply vanished in the chaos. Which made Mobinita nervous. But, it was not his place to question orders.

"Balinor, how long before we reach the rendezvous point?"

"Eight minutes."

"Very well. Ladies and Gentlemen," he said, addressing his wall of screens, "It's time to begin the final phase of this operation. Send your crews to condition yellow, give them a chance to unwind a bit, but keep them close to their stations. Balinor, execute the reorientation."

"Acknowledged."

##########

"What's happening?" Funaho asked as she entered the war room.

"Admiral Mobinita is reorienting his task force." Nogumo indicated one of the schematics. "He's performing a precessional alignment of the formation axis perpendicular to their present vector."

"Meaning...?"

"He's rotating the formation to keep it pointed straight down the throat of the doorway."

"How are the K'vimm reacting?"

"They're building a wall of ships between the task force and their ticket home. If I were in command of that fleet I'd be sweating buckets right now, trying to determine if two dozen second-tier warships are really a threat, or if it's just a giant bluff."

"Where's Crown Prince Tenchi?"

"Still undetermined."

##########

Ryoko - _No sign of Tenchi, huh? I don't like it_

Ayeka_ - It worries me, also_

Mihoshi_ - Yukinojo is tied into the home fleet net, and they haven't seen him, either_

Kiyone_ - The internal GP broadcasts are saying the same thing_

Ayeka_ - I can see the doorway clearly, and that powdery fog around it must be the K'vimm fleet_

Mihoshi_ - The home fleet has recorded no explosions in proximity to the doorway for quite a while_

Ryoko_ - Meaning Tenchi is not there_

Mihoshi_ - Probably_

Kiyone_ - Would we be able to sense if he was injured?_

Ayeka_ - I think we would_

Ryoko_ - What the hell?_

##########

"Admiral, there is a vessel decloaking in our forward quadrant."

Mobinita watched the monitors. There was a shimmer in the starfield, like heat waves rising from hot asphalt, and a shape began to emerge. Long and lean, graceful and glorious, one end was dominated by bulbs and planes, while the other branched and forked into a set of buttresses and stout limbs. The surface of the whole ship was corrugated, like tree bark, and knotted in many places. There was no mistaking the flagship of the Juraian Navy: "Tsunami."

"Confirmed. Tsunami is matching vectors and velocities with the task force."

She was doing more than that. She was assuming a position directly ahead of Ryo-ohki, becoming the new vertex of the cone.

"Admiral, we will reach perigee in one minute."

"Very well. Commence final deployment."

##########

"What are they doing?" Funaho asked.

Everyone in the War Room was watching the monitors, as Mobinita's cone began unraveling, reforming into a column behind Tsunami. A blue-white nimbus began to radiate from her bow, as buds of pure force blossomed outwards into leaves of enormous size. Funaho counted ten of them. At full extension, the Lighthawk Wings began to merge into a seamless parasol nearly half a kilometer in diameter. The ships of the task force moved as close together as possible, huddling within the shelter of the penumbra.

"Your Majesty, they are approaching perigee."

"Perigee?"

"Their closest distance to the dimensional doorway."

The wall of K'vimm vessels opened fire. Energy rained down on Tsunami's shield in a reversal of tactics: the task force now felt the weight of convergent fire. Everyone watching the monitors could see the flagship shudder under the constant pressure; the Wings shook like palm fronds in a hurricane, twisting and warping with the strain. But they held together; and Tsunami kept her station. Mobinita's ships launched successive torpedo spreads, clearing their path of K'vimm mines. Space around the task force flashed and sparked continuously.

A burst of text flashed across the screens as a small object appeared from Tsunami's bow and accelerated straight for the doorway. "Ah, it's the Crown Prince! He must have been aboard Tsunami."

Half the monitors in the room shifted to follow the object, the remainder watching the task force.

The object continued to accelerate, approaching the mass of K'vimm galleons and frigates that formed the barrier. Every weapon in the K'vimm formation targeted the approaching threat. Beams of energy and massive explosions bracketed the blue-white sphere, but nothing stopped it. In moments, it had passed through the lethal zone, slipped between (or completely through) the K'vimm leviathans, crossed the kilometers-wide gap to the mouth of the doorway, and vanished.

"We've lost sensor lock on His Highness," the adjutant said. It was confirmed by one of the civilians. "The task force has passed perigee, and their distance of separation from the doorway is increasing." The Juraian column was just passing beyond the range of the K'vimm barrage, when all the monitors in the room flickered and blacked-out. "What's happened?"

"One moment, Admiral." his adjutant replied, as he and the other military and civilian technicians were typing furiously on their keyboards. The screens returned to life, those showing the task force unchanged, the others showing an expanding ball of fire. "What the...?"

"Is that the sun?"

"No, Sir — that's the dimensional doorway. Or where it used to be."

##########

Mobinita watched the explosion in real-time. Gouts of incandescent gas spewed outwards, expanding in clouds of roiling flame at hypersonic speeds. It reminded him of vids he'd seen once of lava bubbles ballooning and bursting from vents in a volcano. Only this dome of white-hot plasma was the size of a small moon and growing rapidly. It took less than a second for the doorway to collapse, its generator on the far end consumed by the same cataclysm witnessed here. With one hemisphere no longer restrained, the plasma expanded in an irregular-shaped cloud. Those K'vimm vessels caught in transit simply ceased to exist, while those orbiting the doorway disintegrated under the horrendous heat and pressure. K'vimm ships forming the barrier realized what had happened, and tried frantically to escape the death blossom. But their shields flared briefly and vanished, and the cloud incinerated them instantly.

Mobinita had known this was coming, of course. His Highness had carried a sunbuster bomb through the psuedospace tunnel, just as he had promised, and then had set it off. The roaring residue here was nothing compared to the inferno now blazing at the other end; this little bit of leakage was just a fraction of the total output that was scorching a star system someplace else. His task force sailed away from the doorway at nearly 25% of lightspeed, and so escaped the tide of million-degree plasma.

His task force had survived.

##########

"By the gods," Funaho whispered.

A new nebula was uncoiling in the sky beyond the fourth planet, visible from every location in the solar system. Depending upon which part of the electromagnetic spectrum it was viewed under, it would appear as anything from a pale, diaphanous ghost to a radiant blossom. It was a fleeting structure, though; it would expand until it was too dispersed to be visible, and eventually be blown away by the solar wind.

"That whole quadrant of the sky has been scoured clean," Nogumo said. "Other than Mobinita's task force, there's nothing left."

"Did that explosion catch all of the K'vimm?"

"There are a few remaining ships left a little further out. They'll be burned pretty good when the shockwave catches them. For that matter, some of our own forces had better batten down, too."

Funaho stared at the screens for a moment, waiting for the concern in the back of her mind to bubble to the fore. And then the blood drained from her face. "What about the Crown Prince? We all saw him enter the doorway..."

Nogumo conversed quietly with his adjutant, and then other technicians in the room, before answering. "There is no indication that he returned to Jurai space before the explosion."

The Empress of Jurai slowly collapsed into a chair.

##########

Ayeka - _No. I don't believe it. I can't believe it_

Mihoshi_ - But...he didn't come back through the doorway_

Ryoko_ - He's still alive, I tell you. I can feel him!_

Ayeka_ - Tenchi..._

Kiyone_ - Wait a minute! We're still linked, aren't we?_

Mihoshi_ - Yes_

Kiyone_ - And we're still wearing the Lighthawk Armor, right?_

Ryoko_ - Yes!_

Ayeka_ - Then, that means — _

##########

"Incoming transmission from Tsunami," Balinor reported. "Unscrambled, all commercial and military bands."

Mobinita turned to the main screen, unconsciously straightening his tunic. The image that appeared surprised him, even on a day when he'd thought he'd seen everything. There was the Crown Prince, sitting in the pilot's chair, looking exhausted. But the light in his eyes was undiminished, and glowed almost as bright as the Emblem on his brow or the Armor he wore. Behind him stood Princess Washu and Princess Sasami, both encased in their own Lighthawk Armor.

"This is Crown Prince Sir Tenchi Masaki, ordering all remaining K'vimm vessels in this solar system to stand down and surrender or be hunted down and exterminated. You've lost the war, and you're stranded thousands of light years from home. Continued resistance is pointless. Don't throw your lives away...there's been enough bloodshed already, on both sides. You have one hour to comply. Alpha Circuit."

##########

Funaho retained her composure, but just barely. Others in the War Room were not so successful. Nogumo had to silence their cheers with a hiss.

"Admiral Mobinita?"

"Yes, Your Highness?" The task force commander's face appeared in a panel on screen. He looked almost as haggard as Tenchi did.

"What's our status?"

"We've secured from battle stations, Your Highness. And we will initiate deceleration as soon as you give the word."

"Consider it given, Admiral."

"Yes, Sir."

##########

The stars spun around the task force, as the ships spread out and assumed a safer distance of separation. Not many aboard them were watching the view, though. There was damage to repair, injuries to attend to, and dead to mourn.

Tenchi - _Hello, Ladies_

Ryoko/Ayeka/Mihoshi - _Tenchi!_

Tenchi_ - Is everyone alright?_

Ryoko_ - We are now!_

Ayeka_ - What about you? You look so fatigued..._

Tenchi_ - I'll be fine, as soon as I get some hot food and a long nap_

Sasami_ - Don't worry, everyone, I've got something cooking for him right now_

Washu_ - And I'll give him a real nice sedative for dessert_

Tenchi_ - I doubt if I'll need it_

Kiyone_ - How did you manage to survive that blast? We saw you enter the doorway..."_

Tenchi_ - I'll explain it all later. At home_

**ACT 4 - TEMPERING AND QUENCHING**

_I can't stand to fly  
I'm not that naive  
I'm just out to find  
The better part of me _

_I'm more than a bird…I'm more than a plane  
More than some pretty face beside a train  
And it's not easy to be me_

I wish that I could cry  
Fall upon my knees  
Find a way to lie  
About a home I'll never see 

_It may sound absurd…but don't be naive  
Even Heroes have the right to bleed  
I may be disturbed…but won't you concede  
Even Heroes have the right to dream  
And it's not easy to be me _

_Up, up and away…away from me  
Well it's all right…You can all sleep sound tonight  
I'm not crazy…or anything… _

_I can't stand to fly  
I'm not that naive  
Men weren't meant to ride  
With clouds between their knees_

_I'm only a man in a silly red sheet  
Digging for kryptonite on this one way street  
Only a man in a funny red sheet  
Looking for special things inside of me _

_Inside of me  
Inside of me  
Inside of me  
Inside of me_

_I'm only a man in a funny red sheet  
I'm only a man looking for a dream  
I'm only a man in a funny red sheet  
And it's not easy..._

_It's not easy to be me._

Artist: Five For Fighting  
Track: "Superman (It's Not Easy)"  
(From the Warner Bros. TV series Smallville) 

The Emperor's Privy Council was normally reserved for the few council members that assisted with the day-to-day running of the empire. The Minister of Agriculture, the Minister of Finance, the Minister of Commerce, The Minister of Security, The Minister of Health and Welfare, the Minister of Justice, and a few other Council members. This meeting, however, was flush with military personnel, recently debriefed and hustled to this chamber, as well as assistants for the Ministers. The chamber itself was dominated by a long oval table, but there wasn't sufficient room to accommodate everyone, so enough extra chairs had been brought in to form a gallery along one wall. The opposite wall was reserved for the Emperor and his family.

Everyone was present except the Royal Family, whose lateness was politely attributed to visiting Empress Misaki in the hospital. A refreshment cart was pushed into the room, and in no time a queue had formed. It was at this point that Empress Funaho slipped quietly into the room, and got almost to her seat before anyone noticed she was there. The Chamberlain made The Call, and conversation stopped abruptly. All bowed, which she returned, and indicated for them to continue. She settled into her seat. (By rights, as the senior consort, and upon the death of the Emperor, she could have taken his seat, but she pointedly refused. She was in mourning, and the new Emperor had yet to be crowned.)

People were assuming their seats when the Chamberlain made The Call and the Crown Prince and his entourage entered. The military officers present snapped to attention and bowed smartly, followed hastily by the civilian Ministers. Funaho noted the respect with which the military now treated her great-grandson; he had been untested before the invasion, and therefore treated politely but reservedly. No longer.

Privy Meetings were generally bereft of the protocols required of other functions, but was still somewhat bound by traditions. The Emperor usually entered alone, followed by his consorts in order of seniority. Tenchi trashed that tradition when he entered the room carrying Achika, followed closely by Washu and Sasami, Ayeka and Ryoko, and Mihoshi and Kiyone. Kiyone got more than her share of curious looks, and many present wondered if the Crown Prince was about to increase the size of his family. Tenchi bowed before the empty seats, bowed once to his great-grandmother, and assumed his usual chair behind her. Chairs had been provided for his entourage, who filled them quietly.

Funaho watched her great-grandson with interest. She noted the change in his posture, the way he wrapped Command Authority around himself like a cloak, the set of his shoulders that now carried a burden greater than any he had known before. But mostly she noticed his eyes: there was a weariness about them that she knew all too well, because she had seen many of her operatives acquire the same cast; her great-grandson had lost his innocence, and the void had been filled with a harsh wisdom.

The Chamberlain called the meeting to order, and silence settled upon the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming today. We all have many pressing duties waiting for us, but I think it will do us good to pause and reflect upon the last few days. I have asked members of the military to join us and provide a summary of the actions that broke the K'vimm blockade and their subsequent destruction. I would also appreciate hearing from the various ministers a brief review of their current circumstances and recovery plans. We need not delve too deeply into details. Admiral Nogumo, would you start, please?"

The Admiral rose from his seat in the gallery, and approached the closest end of the table. "Thank you, Your Majesty. From the military perspective, three weeks ago the K'vimm dimensional doorway appeared suddenly beyond the orbit of the fourth planet. Strategically, this was closer to the inner systems than is normally permissible by conventional jump technology. They established a perimeter of ships and satellites at this distance out from the sun, with the intent of detecting and intercepting any vessels approaching Homeworld. Concurrently, they attempted to overwhelm the naval bases on the Juraian moons and the orbital defenses above Homeworld. In this they were unsuccessful, and were forced to establish an englobement posture. It was during these initial engagements that Emperor Azusa was killed, and Empress Funaho assumed command of Homeworld defense. While the K'vimm attacking force had sufficient numbers to pin down the home fleet, they could not possibly win against the entire weight of the Juraian navy. We have major fleets stationed at each end of our empire, as well as squadrons stationed at strategic points throughout the volume of Jurai space. Unfortunately, it takes time to summon such forces, and time was an ally of the K'vimm. Since our communications were being jammed, we sent couriers to those fleets, to our nearest squadrons, and (of course) to those members of the Royal Family visiting colony world 0315, a.k.a. Earth. At least one courier got through to Admiral Mobinita's squadron. Admiral Mobinita will now provide details of subsequent events."

Mobinita rose and stepped up to the table, replacing Nogumo. "Concurrent to their attack on Homeworld, the Imperial Residence on Earth was attacked by elements of the K'vimm. They were successfully repelled, but one element abducted Princess Ayeka, and one element escaped into space pursued by Princess Ryoko aboard Ryo-ohki. Subsequently, a K'vimm task force attacked my squadron, as well as the Galaxy Police cruiser Yukinojo, then en route to Earth. Amazingly enough, His Highness intercepted and destroyed all those forces attacking his consorts, as well as a decisive number of K'vimm vessels engaged with us, in just a matter of only a few hours." The implications were obvious: Tenchi had crossed half a solar system in a fraction of the normal time, stopping to rescue two of his wives in the process, before pouncing upon the intruders harassing Mobinita's squadron. An impressive feat, and the chamber was abuzz with admiration. Funaho turned in her seat to look at her great-grandson, who was playing quietly with his daughter.

Mobinita continued. "His Highness returned to Earth, in company with his consorts, then located and rescued Princess Ayeka. Her Majesty's courier arrived within the next few days, so I immediately sent him to Earth to inform Crown Prince Yosho of the circumstances. Sadly, the restoration process on his Royal Tree is only half-completed; he cannot leave Earth for many months. It was realized by all that the Empire needed a leader, and needed one now. So, the Crown Prince formally abdicated his position, and his grandson, Prince Tenchi, assumed the title of Crown Prince. In the ensuing week it took to return to Homeworld, we mapped out a strategy for dealing with the K'vimm blockade. Since His Highness had been so successful removing the K'vimm capital ships, and my forces had been so successful with convergent fire on the K'vimm secondaries, it was decided to continue this tactic. His Highness suggested that we drive the K'vimm forces as close to their doorway as possible, and then destroy them all with one effort."

Funaho turned to her great-grandson. "And just how did you plan to accomplish that, Tenchi?"

"Push a sunbuster bomb through their doorway and set it off," Tenchi replied. "I figured that it would not only destroy the generating end of the doorway (and any forces stationed near it), but the backwash would probably roast anything close to this end."

"What if you did not have access to a sunbuster?" She looked pointedly at Washu, who just grinned.

"I had...other options...at my disposal." The look on his face was a warning to everyone that this was a closed subject. Funaho got the message.

"Then it was fortunate for us that you did, and that Tsunami was at hand to deliver it and provide shelter for Admiral Mobinita's squadron. Thank you, Admiral." Mobinita bowed and returned to his seat.

"What about Home Fleet, Admiral Nogumo?"

"I will let Admiral Terest provide those details, Your Majesty." Nogumo indicated a woman in the gallery who rose when her name was called. She stepped up to the table and bowed.

"Thank you, Admiral. Your Majesty, we had our forces arranged in the standard deployment, that is, we had contingents based at..." She droned on, providing details of the ships that had struggled and died against the invaders, and the heroic efforts to stave-off a K'vimm landing on Homeworld itself. Funaho only listened with one ear, as she already knew the details. She was thinking about her son, Yosho, still marooned on Earth when he was needed the most. She wondered if, in the end, Yosho was reluctant or relieved that he had finally escaped the throne. And what of his feelings for his father? They had talked briefly on Earth, two years ago, and a simple exchange of letters since. How much would Yosho grieve for Azusa? She may never know, she decided.

Terest finished her narrative, bowed, and returned to her seat. "Thank you, Admiral Terest. Is there anything more to add, Admiral Nogumo?"

"While it is not really my place to ask, Your Majesty, I have heard rumors about what caused the K'vimm incursion in the first place. That they came in large numbers is obvious, but the numbers were not large enough for a sustained invasion. They wanted something; they launched a preemptive strike to acquire it, and I believe they had every intention of returning to their own territory once they seized their objective. So I ask, Your Majesty, on behalf of those who died in the line of duty: What were the K'vimm after?"

"I'll answer that," Tenchi said. He stood slowly, cradling his daughter, and stepped up to the table beside his great-grandmother. "They wanted the Royal Trees."

There was a stir in the room, and the Minister of Agriculture finally stood and asked, "How do you know this, Your Highness?"

"Princess Ayeka heard it from the lips of one of their collaborators," he replied.

The stir grew to an angry buzz.

"And who might that be, Your Highness?" asked the Minister of Commerce.

Tenchi hesitated, considering what might happen if he revealed the name. "I cannot say at this point, Minister. I'd like to, but there isn't sufficient evidence yet to convict the man and his family of treason. I really don't care why he did what he did, that's for the courts and the Ministry of Justice to determine."

"Just where is this collaborator now?"

"In a maximum security prison cell — for his own protection. As for any possible collaboration with the K'vimm, I believe my great-grandmother's operatives are already looking into the matter. But it does explain how a K'vimm raiding party would be on Earth, if they were trying to retrieve my grandfather's Royal Tree. It might also explain their reluctance to fire upon my great-grandfather's formation when they had the chance, or on Tsunami when we were well within range of their massed batteries." He turned to face Nogumo. "Will that suffice, Admiral, at least for now?"

"It does, indeed, Your Highness. Thank you." Nogumo bowed, and returned to his seat.

Funaho watched Tenchi return to his seat. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I can assure you that the matter is being investigated even as we speak. We _will_ have answers." She paused for emphasis, before continuing.

"Princess Washu, will you tell us what your probe into the doorway revealed?" Funaho asked, turning to look over her shoulder.

"Certainly, Your Majesty." Washu rose and stepped beside her husband's chair. "At the Crown Prince's suggestion, I attached a long-range probe to the sunbuster bomb. His Highness delivered and protected both mechanisms upon their journey through the dimensional doorway. Here is the visual portion of the data I received." Her spectral keyboard materialized beside her, and a few keystrokes produced a large screen in the air above her. The image was extremely bright, obviously looking directly into a star. "This is the orientation of the probe upon arrival. It was programmed to perform a spherical sweep of the sky. Frankly, it didn't have much time — when I set the proximity fuse on the bomb, I figured it would take a couple of hours to travel from the release point to the solar corona. It never even occurred to me that the doorway would be so damn close to the star. We were lucky to get what information we did." She typed a command and the image on the screen crawled slowly across the star's bright surface, until the horizon appeared. "The sun you are looking at is a red giant, which makes it swollen and cooler than brighter, younger stars. Thus, it is possible to approach much closer."

As the black of space assumed a larger portion of the image, objects began to appear. The closest were K'vimm warships, some appearing through the doorway, others forming a security cordon. These latter were shooting at the probe, but having no effect. As the image continued to pan, a portion of a huge metal ring appeared, broken at regular intervals with utility structures and service portals. Attached to it was a massive array of solar collectors, thousands of kilometers across, stretching away into the distance.

"You can see the generator starting to appear. This solar array is how they were able to keep the doorway open for so long. I haven't bothered to calculate the size, but it must have taken years to construct. However, this is what I found the most interesting." The image continued to rotate, the distance increased noticeably, and more K'vimm handiwork became visible. She froze the image, and pointed to other ring-shaped structures at the edges of the screen. "I counted seven more in this shot. I wouldn't even care to guess how many there were altogether, since I have no accurate idea of the size of the array. Or even if this is the only array."

Another tap on the keyboard, and the video continued. The camera completed its view backwards, rotation continued, and the star's horizon crept once more onto the screen. Washu lowered the intensity — but it still hurt the eyes to look at it.

"Here the probe is dropping though the chromosphere (notice the horizontal and vertical clouds of gas). And now it has reached the photosphere, or what passes for the surface of the star. I'm sure you recognize the sunspots." The screen suddenly went dark. "This is the closest His Highness could take the probe."

"I passed out from the strain," Tenchi said. "It was just too far away."

"That's okay, Dear, it was close enough. The proximity fuse in the bomb's armored canister did its job before it melted." Washu smiled at him, then turned back to face the group. "I find it hard to believe that the K'vimm constructed their 'doorway farm' just beyond that sun's corona, but they must have had a good reason. Whatever it was, their proximity to the sun gave us a pretty small window of opportunity. The glare was so bad that I couldn't find enough visible stars to get a good reference fix. I have been looking through the stellar catalogs for viable candidates, but I won't be really certain of a match until I do a spectral analysis."

"Are we likely to face another incursion?" Funaho asked.

"Not for a while," Washu replied chuckling. "That entire structure no longer exists."

"How can you be so sure?"

"The sunbuster bomb. Actually, the name 'sunbuster' is a misnomer: it doesn't cause a star to explode, it merely induces a 'coughing fit' of coronal mass ejections. But the effect on any objects close to the star — like this array — can be just as catastrophic."

"What conclusions have you reached after your analysis of the data?"

"I believe that the array was the only object in that solar system. The K'vimm must have built it there on the assumption that sooner-or-later something unfriendly would come through one of the doorways. There were no populated planets at risk."

Funaho nodded, relief momentarily crossing her face. "Please continue."

"It might be wise to consider building our own network of dimensional doorways between regions of the Empire, as a means of transporting resources around in case a similar situation arises again."

"Indeed," Funaho agreed, "a policy worth considering. Expensive, but perhaps not prohibitively so."

"The cost could be recouped if such doorways were made available to commercial traffic. A toll is a lot cheaper on time and resources than a long voyage. Not to mention the tighter security." Washu nodded and returned to her seat.

"All things considered, the amount of actual damage to our citizens and infrastructure was relatively minor," Funaho said. "The K'vimm did not feel it in their interest to lay waste the surface of Homeworld, or even some of the commercial structures in and around the moons. Which lends even more credence to His Highness'...interpretation. We will now hear from the assembled ministers."

Tenchi - _Are you ladies thirsty? I see a cart full of goodies along the far wall_

Tenchi received affirmative replies, and gestured to one of the serv'bots floating silently against the wall. It drifted across the room and hovered beside him. He whispered his own request, repeated the requests his entourage were making, and dismissed it with a gesture.

Washu - _Is Achika getting fussy?_

Tenchi_ - Well, just a little..._

Washu_ - I'll take her_

Sasami_ - Can I hold her?_

Washu_ – Sure_

Tenchi felt Sasami's hands slipping under Achika's arms as she lifted the baby off of his shoulder. He didn't need to turn around to hear the attention the baby was getting.

Tenchi - _You're going to spoil her, you know_

Ryoko_ - So, what's your point?_

Sasami_ - Yeah, Tenchi, what's the problem?_

Washu_ - Now, now, quit picking on him, especially when he's so outnumbered..._

Ayeka_ - I'll defend you, Beloved_

Mihoshi_ - Defend him from what?_

Kiyone_ - From his family, I gather_

Tenchi chuckled, drawing a curious glance from his great-grandmother. He blushed, cleared his throat, and made every effort to pay attention to the present speaker.

##########

The serv'bot soon delivered their drinks, Achika was passed around and fussed over, and Tenchi actually listened to the various Ministers speeches. He knew, deep in his soul, that he had better start learning how to conduct these meetings. His coronation was now inevitable, whether he felt prepared or not. He felt a depression settle over him, clinging like a wet blanket.

"Thank you," Funaho said, as the last of the Privy Council members completed their summary. "We can now open the floor to questions, knowing that some of them may not be permissible to answer at this point. Anyone?"

"I've got one," Ryoko said, standing. She surprised many in the chamber — including her husband, who turned in his seat to stare at her. "Tenchi, I've been meaning to ask you: just how do you travel through space like that? And how did you destroy those K'vimm warships?" She smiled, pleased with herself for finally remembering to ask her questions.

"I'd like to know that, too, Your Highness," added Admiral Mobinita, rising from his seat in the gallery.

"Oh! Oh! Let me tell them!" Washu bounced out of her seat, waving her hand like a child in school.

Tenchi had to grin at her enthusiasm. "Go ahead, Washu. You'll do a better job than I would, anyway."

Washu recovered her dignity before launching into her explanation. "Just a bit of background first. His Highness employs the Lighthawk Wings, which draw their Power directly from the quantum vacuum. How isn't important. What is important is that they operate on a frequency of hundreds of cycles per second. Remember that fact." She stepped down to the table and retrieved a wine bottle. "Now, who can tell me the two fundamental rules of teleportation?"

"You have to know where you're going, and you can't occupy the same space as some other object."

"Thank you, Ryoko. You get the prize." She poured the contents of the wine bottle into Ryoko's glass. "Although I should point-out that Ryoko here cheats a bit: when she teleports, she is just enough out-of-phase with the target space that she can make the transition a gradual one. The rest of us mere mortals who rely on mechanical teleportation cannot violate that second rule at all. And even Ryoko has to know where she's going; if she hasn't been there before, or it isn't in her direct line-of-sight, she can't teleport there."

Washu began pacing slowly along the table. "This is how normal teleportation works," she placed the bottle upright on the tabletop. "Object 'A' resides in realspace, but desires to be over there," she said, pointing to the other end of the table. "By executing a temporary shift into psuedospace in a given direction, Object 'A' leaves realspace here and reappears over there." Washu lifted the bottle and carried it to the far end of the table, setting it down in front of the Minister of Health and Welfare. "Of course, it ain't magic — distance and duration are paid for in energy, and the subject is forced to return to realspace damn quick or violate several conservation laws. Whatever. Teleportation is a messy, inefficient, and inherently risky way to travel, and it only works reliably over short distances. Teleportation has two sisters: the jump drive and the dimensional doorway. The jump drive is a variation on teleportation, with certain technical refinements to increase the range. Still risky, particularly around gravity wells, but it has been the motive force behind our civilization for millennia. Dimensional doorways are safer and stabler, and bypass the conservation laws by building a tunnel through psuedospace, so that 'technically' the subject never really leaves realspace. The jump drive requires detailed knowledge of the destination; the dimensional doorway does not. The jump drive is unbounded, in that the subject can literally go anywhere; the dimensional doorway has only one entrance and only one exit."

"Please come to the point, Washu," Funaho said. "This is elementary applied physics."

"His Highness has learned to combine the best features of both jump drive and dimensional doorway into a slick little hybrid transport system."

"The concept has been around for a long time, Princess Washu," Admiral Nogumo noted.

"True, but there were so many technical glitches that no one ever made it work. Until now." The smile she directed at her husband was radiant. "His Highness builds a shield around himself out of the Lighthawk Wings — "

Sasami - _Like the cocoon you built last year?_

Tenchi _- Yes, exactly like that one_

" — And then he teleports the whole shield as far forward as his enhanced perception can see — and I'd guess that ranges from a few centimeters to several meters. But, since this process is based upon the Lighthawk Wings, it doesn't just happen once; it happens hundreds of times a second. And he doesn't actually have to wait for a full cycle to complete; as soon as he phases into realspace just far enough to get his bearings, he jumps again. Hundreds-of-times-a-second." She laid the wine bottle on its side and pushed it, sending it rolling the length of the table. "Shields, hulls, blaster beams, solid rock, kilometers of empty space...it doesn't matter, he phases right through it all."

Profound silence, until Councilor Syuuzen Amaki cleared his throat. "But that doesn't explain some of the properties we observed, such as the high velocity, or those incredibly acute maneuvers. I received eyewitness reports of at least two 90-degree turns with no deceleration. Simply impossible at that speed."

"Ah, but you still haven't got it, Minister. His Highness is not _accelerating_ in realspace; he's _shifting position_ in realspace. He's not wasting energy trying to go faster and faster, so he's not paying the energy debt to fight inertia. His velocity relative to the universe at large is no more than what he started with, which for all practical purposes might as well be zero. Changing course is a snap. He can't exceed lightspeed, but he can come pretty damn close."

"By the gods..." Amaki replied.

"Now you've got it. A new form of realspace driver. And here's something else to consider: with the widespread acceptance of the Masaki Drive — "

" — The Masaki Drive?" asked the Minister of Commerce.

"The principle for the new engine was perfected by Crown Prince Sir Tenchi Masaki, and the first working prototype of a mechanical derivative will be patented and demonstrated by Princess Washu Masaki sometime in the next few months. Anyone got a problem with calling it the Masaki Drive?" No one objected. "As I was saying, with the widespread acceptance of the Masaki Drive, it will revolutionize the merchant marine and the military. Think of it: in-system freighters that can cross a solar system in hours, rather than days. Or torpedoes that can penetrate any known shield, launched from warships that can literally turn on a coin. Or search-and-rescue vessels that don't need to wait for sensor probes and digging equipment to rescue earthquake victims." She waited until she could see an anticipatory gleam in their eyes. "But I should warn you, Ladies and Gentlemen, that you will not have a very large window of opportunity. Such breakthroughs are rare, and are generally countered and copied rather quickly. You will only have, at best, a few years to exploit your advantages."

"But that still doesn't explain how you were able to destroy those ships simply by passing through them," Ryoko persisted. "According to Washu, you were never inside them long enough to touch anything."

"I didn't have to touch anything," Tenchi replied slowly. "During the split second I was inside the reactor on each vessel, I rearranged some of the more volatile elements, or shifted some of the fragile components around."

"But, Tenchi, if you didn't touch anything...?"

"Besides being an autoteleport, I'm also an exoteleport," he explained for the Council members and guests present. "I can teleport objects without actually being in contact with them. And since I only needed to move things a few millimeters..."

"Oh, now I get it: one object can't occupy the same space as another object!"

"Instant catastrophic chain-reaction," Mobinita said. "**Very** impressive, Your Highness."

"And I guided the shield (as Washu called it) through the K'vimm's dimensional doorway, even though I remained aboard Tsunami."

Ayeka stood slowly and raised her glass towards her husband. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to propose a toast. To His Highness, Crown Prince Sir Tenchi Masaki: his actions won the war, and his discovery will fuel our economic recovery!" Everyone in the room agreed enthusiastically, raising their glasses towards Tenchi.

Tenchi waited until they'd lowered their glasses before rising himself. "You make me sound like a hero," he said solemnly, "which I am definitely not." He raised his own glass towards the Emperor's empty seat. "I would propose a toast to the real heroes of the last few weeks: to fallen comrades."

##########

Kiyone stood at rigid attention and snapped a smart salute. Funaho looked across her desk and smiled. "Relax, Detective, this is a social call." Kiyone blinked several times, before assuming the parade rest posture. Funaho chuckled and gestured towards one of the guest chairs. Kiyone sat, but did not relax.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. But if this is not duty-related, then why am I here?"

"I have been watching you, Detective. I must compliment you, not only on your proficiency, your composure, and your patience (particularly with Mihoshi), but on your general attitude. I like what I see. I also like your service record. Most impressive."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Kiyone resisted the urge to blush, and failed.

"Mihoshi tells me that you have been reconsidering your future with the Galaxy Police. Are you dissatisfied with your present career?"

"Not dissatisfied, really; just not sure. I thought I had a career path all laid out, but it seems to have been repeatedly side-tracked."

"Well, I'm sure being partnered with Mihoshi didn't help matters any." Kiyone's shocked look turned into a wry smile as she studied Funaho's amused smile. "Your talents were never overlooked, Detective. But there were certain individuals in the GP administration who thought it wiser — and easier, in all honesty — to keep you linked with Mihoshi. You excelled at restraining her excesses. It was deemed 'politically unwise' to be the one to flush the Marshall's grand-daughter out of active service. For many on the management chain, it was more important to keep you right where you were."

Kiyone growled softly. "That just confirms what I have always suspected. But no one in the GP would give me an honest answer."

"You need not remain in the GP, you know. The galaxy is full of opportunities, especially for someone who works hard and thinks carefully." Kiyone canted her head, evaluating the statement. Funaho waited until she saw the proper glint in the young woman's eyes. "In fact, I am impressed enough to offer you a position in my organization."

"What position, Your Majesty?"

"In my Special Operations unit. Information retrieval and investigation. I believe the GP has a similar department, with similar goals."

"The same department that raided Naja Akara's space station?" Kiyone struggled to keep her voice level, particularly when Funaho nodded her head. "Would I be working with Mihoshi and Ryoko?"

"Yes, but not consistently. Ryoko has other extensive duties, and Mihoshi has many GP functions to attend to. Realistically, there will be occasions when you three would be sent on assignment together."

"What rank would I receive?" Here was the real clincher.

"Commander, the same as Ryoko. It is equivalent to Mihoshi's rank of Detective Captain, I believe." Funaho watched Kiyone mentally salivating, and managed to suppress a grin. "Mihoshi and Ryoko work reasonably well together, but I think they would both benefit from a calmer voice providing...suggestions...for achieving their goals. A certain amount of trust, familiarity, and experience would be highly beneficial, don't you think?"

"Yes, Your Majesty, I do. And, please, just call me Kiyone."

##########

There was a general sigh of contentment, as six females settled into the steaming waters of the onsen. Washu reached up and nudged Achika's hovering bassinet a little closer to the side of the pool. Ryoko fetched a sake bottle and started distributing cups. Kiyone watched the well-rehearsed routine with a raised eyebrow.

"Damn, that's good!" Ryoko said, smacking her lips appreciatively.

"Can I ask you ladies a personal question?"

"Sure, Kiyone, go ahead. You're part of the family now."

"Just how do you four manage to _share_ a husband, and do it so...amicably?"

"We take turns. We each get him for a week at a time."

"However," Ayeka added, "it wasn't always so cooperative."

"Yeah, it was down-right nasty for the first couple of months. Even worse than when we were single."

"So how did you resolve the issue?"

"About six months into the marriage, we came in here and locked the door, determined to work out the kinks. Tenchi, of course, was not invited."

"It was a little more involved than that," Washu interjected. Ryoko and Ayeka indicated that she should continue. Sasami was paying rapt attention, and Mihoshi just stared into her sake. "We all jumped into this marriage expecting our husband to follow a reasonably predictable pattern. As usual, he surprised us all. And when we started comparing notes, we discovered we had all made the same mistake."

"What mistake?"

"We forgot he was a Power adept. A _prodigious_ Power adept."

"So?"

"Well, physically he's of average size, though he can be very vigorous — "

" — And durable," Ayeka added.

" — And strong," Ryoko added.

"He's a healthy human male, with all the normal physical drives and capabilities," Washu continued. "He has a proven performance record, so to speak, not to mention creative — "

" — And adaptable," Ayeka said.

" — And tolerant," Ryoko said.

"He sounds too good to be true," Kiyone said wryly.

"Oh, he has his shortcomings," Washu smiled, stirring her sake with her finger. "Anyway, he has established mind links with each of us. We resonate very strongly across those links. _Very_ strongly. Particularly during moments of extreme stress."

"I have a link with him, and I don't feel any strong sensations, even during the fighting with the K'vimm."

"You're not an adept. He _talks_ to you, but he _sings_ to us. For example, when we kiss him, not only do we feel our own sensations, but we receive his sensations at the same time, and he feels ours. One sensation feeds on the other in a sensual steamroller, giving new meaning to the term 'shared experience.' Sexual climax is an order of magnitude more intense."

"Oh." Kiyone tried to visualize the concept, and noticed Ayeka and Ryoko exchanging dreamy smiles.

"But that isn't all. What do you know about the social mores of the _Adeptus Psyker_ caste?"

"Not much. A lot of competition and dominance games. There aren't many of them in human space, but any one of them can cause of a lot of grief for the local mundanes."

"A very accurate assessment. Put any two male adepts, or any two female adepts, into a locked room and they will immediately start contesting for position. They — we — can't help it; adepts project a Power envelope, which is a component of the aura. Our nervous systems are sensitive to more sources of stimulation than yours — including each other. We ruffle each other's feathers, so to speak. Consequently, those of us with higher Power levels have larger envelopes, and tend to be dominant, just as those of you mundanes with larger physiques tend to be dominant. It's a hardwired response." Washu paused to sip her sake. "Now, if you put a male and a female adept into a locked room, she immediately starts responding to his envelope, assessing his mating qualifications. The more powerful he is, the more attractive he becomes. Again, it's hardwired into the animal, and cannot be ignored. Primal sexual response. Absolutely unavoidable — and absolutely irresistible."

"Are you ladies immune to this...response?"

"Nope. We," Washu indicated herself and the other females present, "are all high grade adepts. And if Tenchi is not yet the most powerful adept in the galaxy, he soon will be. Any female adept experiencing that envelope of his is quite simply transfixed. He has to keep his envelope muted, or he'd have every female adept in the capitol following him round like a lovesick puppy, and every male adept cowering in the corners. He calls it 'whisper mode.'"

Kiyone refilled her cup, as well as Mihoshi's, and passed the bottle on to Sasami, who was nursing her own cup along. Kiyone noted absently how flushed the youngster was getting.

"Imagine what happens between two copulating adepts when you add the near-debilitating effects of overlapping Power envelopes — paralysis doesn't even begin to describe it. Also, baseline sexual climax for _Homo sapiens_ has many similarities to an epileptic seizure. All barriers tumble in the face of that kind of pressure...including Tenchi's 'Whisper Mode.'"

"I think I see where this is going," Kiyone said.

"Mmm-hmmm," Washu nodded. "Tenchi subjects each partner — "

" — Or partners," Ryoko muttered, grinning slyly at Ayeka and Mihoshi. The former blushed, the latter sipped her sake quietly.

Washu appraised her daughter with one eyebrow raised. "Or partners, to the combined effects of physical stimulation, sensual mirroring, and coincidental annuli. Every pleasure center in the brain, every nerve fiber in the body, lights-up like Startica fireworks."

"It's exhilarating!" Ayeka said.

"It's exhausting!" Ryoko said.

"Correct on both counts," Washu replied. "Once we started comparing notes, we discovered that none of us could tolerate more than a week of horizontal wind-sprints with our new husband. All concerns about getting-a-worn-out-husband-when-it's-my-turn went right out the window, and we found that having a couple of weeks to recover made good sense."

"You could spread the, er, occurrences, farther apart," Kiyone suggested. All four wives gave her a _you-gotta-be-kidding_! look. Kiyone shrugged and took another pull on her sake.

"Well, we did consider that alternative, but none of us really liked the idea. It's amazing how much of the competition between us disappeared at that point, and Tenchi greatly appreciated the reduced tensions."

"I'm sure he did."

"We also got a better handle on just how much we need to protect him."

"From who?"

"From other female adepts. We are _not_ the only Master Class women around, you know. He's already been stalked by a couple, and sometimes he's just too damn nice for his own good. This way he always has at least one of us around that's clear-headed and ready to confront the intruder."

"I can't wait until I'm old enough to join in the fun," Sasami said, her speech slurred by sake. She was flushed a bright red.

Kiyone glanced from Sasami to the adults at the other end of the pool. "Isn't she a little young for this stuff?"

"Possibly, but I was already sampling the chemistry by her age," Ayeka replied.

"Yeah, so lighten up," Ryoko added. "Consider this as part of her education!"

Kiyone just shook her head. "Hey, Mihoshi, what's up? You haven't said a single thing since we got here."

"I've already said too much," Mihoshi replied glumly.

"Whatever do you mean?" Ayeka asked.

"I managed to hurt Tenchi's feelings a while ago, with only one statement."

"What could you possibly say to hurt Tenchi's feelings?"

"I don't want to repeat it, because then you'd all be mad at me, and start shouting at me. That wouldn't be as bad as his silence, but almost as bad."

Washu, Ryoko, and Ayeka all exchanged curious glances, now thoroughly intrigued.

"Look, Mihoshi, we promise we won't get mad at you, or yell at you," Ryoko replied.

"Absolutely," Ayeka added.

"Yep." Washu reached above her head to adjust Achika's bassinet.

"Well...alright. Kiyone has been reading my Kagato report to the GP, and had asked for some photos of him. I got some hardcopies printed through my office workstation, and that was the first time I really noticed the similarity."

Ryoko sighed, swallowing her impatience with some effort. "What similarity?"

"Well, even though you have Washu's spiky hair and general build, you have Kagato's eye and hair color. I never noticed the similarity before. I mentioned it to Tenchi a while ago. He gave me this long, pained long, and just vanished. I think I hurt his feelings." Mihoshi was so lost in her own misery that she failed to notice the color draining from Ryoko's face. Or the cloud that crossed Washu's brow. "Somehow I always manage to say exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time."

"You certainly do have a talent for it," Washu muttered. She watched her daughter, waiting for the inevitable reaction.

"Gee, Mom, did you sleep with _him_, too? Is he my father? And what about the Masu I'm supposed to be made of?" Ryoko's voice was subdued, but dripping with acid.

"I'll tell you the whole story, if you're willing to listen to it. All of it."

"Another _story_," she snorted. "Sure. Pass me the bottle, Ayeka, so I can get into the proper frame of mind!"

Washu's shoulders slumped, but her gaze didn't waver. "To answer your first question: no, I never slept with him. I'd used my adolescent form for centuries before I met him. He was many things, but never a pedophile." She emptied her cup before continuing. "I'd been in stasis for a long time when he released me. He announced that he wanted an heir, but it couldn't be an ordinary child. He wouldn't accept a clone, either — too likely to try and usurp his power at some point. No, he wanted a genetically tailored child...and he wanted me to brew it for him."

"Why didn't you just refuse?" Ayeka asked.

"Because he threatened to put me back in stasis — after inflicting some of his 'creative punishments' on me. He had me cold, so I cooperated. Yes, Ryoko, the bulk of your genetic make-up is from my ovum, and the majority of your body chemistry is a Masu derivative. But I had to use some of his DNA, as well. You were supposed to be _his_ descendent, after all."

"So you played along, huh?" Ryoko asked bitterly.

"Yes, I did. I didn't want to lose you like I lost your brother."

"Huh? What brother?"

"You weren't the first, Ryoko. I resented that bastard for holding me captive, so out of spite I refused to incorporate his DNA into my first attempt. And when he discovered the truth, Kagato blasted the little boy into a charred lump and tossed the remains out the airlock of the Souja." Washu's eyes filmed with memories and pain. "God, I wanted to die — but I wanted _him_ dead even more. He just laughed, and told me to 'do it right' the next time. So I did, although I managed to confine most of his influence to your Power manifestations." She reached for the sake bottle. "He converted one of the cargo holds into an apartment, and dumped us there. Mercifully, those times alone with you were pure heaven; I even made you a Companion."

"Ryo-ohki," Ryoko whispered.

Washu nodded. "Kagato was distracted for a few years, and you were already walking and talking before he decided to intervene in your 'training.' He'd lost interest in being a surrogate father by then, but he recognized an awesome adept when saw one — and the potential for turning you into a weapon. Some slave to do his dirty work for him, as well as to take all the heat for him when the authorities got too close. He threw me into stasis again, screaming curses and begging him to stop. He lapped it all up like the cur that he was, enjoying the whole spectacle. I'm sure you remember what happened after that."

"Yes." She pulled one lock of her hair, studying it. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

"Why give you even more grief, or hate? Tenchi removed him from our lives and took his place, and that was poetic justice of the highest order."

It was quiet for a time, before Ayeka spoke. "Ryoko?"

"I'm alright," Ryoko replied softly. "I'm sorry I got angry at you, Mom. I guess I have a lot to learn." She drained her sake cup and stared into it. "'_Tenchi: of Heaven and Earth; an angel,_'" she recited a definition she'd read once upon a time. "If you ladies will excuse me, I feel an overpowering need to hold our husband." She levitated above the waters and vanished.

"And I feel a need to apologize to him," Mihoshi added. She rose soundlessly and stepped out of the pool. With a sigh, the others followed her.

##########

They found him sitting on a marble bench by his garden, staring at the blossoms glowing in the light of the Juraian moons.

"Tenchi?" Mihoshi approached him from behind, placing her hands on his shoulders.

"H-m-m-m?" he replied absently.

"I want to apologize for hurting your feelings. I'm sorry for what I said."

Tenchi twisted slowly around on the seat, looking at her alabaster face in the gloom. "Huh? Sorry for what?"

"For comparing Kagato and Ryoko."

Tenchi shrugged. "It's okay, Mihoshi. You didn't hurt my feelings. It's just that I've been thinking a lot about him lately."

"Why?" Washu asked. Cradling little Achika in one arm, she settled onto the bench beside him. The other members of his family drifted up behind them, observing like silent wraiths.

"I'm scared, Washu."

It wasn't the answer she expected. "Of what?"

"Of becoming like him."

"What makes you think you are?"

"When these latest...Power attributes...surfaced, I recognized the traveling sphere as one of Kagato's abilities. At the time I was worried that using it might be just one more step down the path that he took. But I was even more worried about my family, so I used it. I _liked_ it, Washu; it made me feel so completely free, to fly though space at will, and to go anywhere I wanted. _Anywhere_. That first day, when I was blasting K'vimm warships apart, I felt almost godlike...I could pass through their hulls and nothing could touch me...I could obliterate a vessel with little more than a thought...it was like an addictive video game. It was so _easy_. I didn't want it to stop."

He paused, and looked at her face in the moonlight. "Go on," she urged.

"And then I remembered my one experience with starship combat...and what happens to the losers." Ryo-ohki had taken them into space to face Souja, and had brought along Ayeka's Ryu-oh for extra support (Ryo-ohki knew only too well just how powerful Kagato really was). Tenchi had boarded Ryo-oh in a valiant attempt to face the larger vessel — and had gotten Ryu-oh blown to splinters, and himself along with it. "My last memory of that fight was feeling my clothing shredding under the blast wave. But Tsunami told me later that Ryu-oh's last act had been to cover me with her branches, and when the lower three-fourths of my body had been obliterated, it was her sap that kept me alive until Azaka and Kamidake found me. They held me in stasis until Tsunami arrived. Somehow, there was enough life frozen inside my shattered body that she was able to regenerate the missing parts, and revive me. And thinking about those poor souls in those ships...K'vimm and human...it just makes me sick. I have the ability to sense a mind, to see it shining like a candle in the night...and I'd snuffed out thousands of candles in a single day. Did those creatures die screaming? Did they writhe in agony before melting, or suffocate quickly in the vacuum, or get blasted into quivering gobbets of flesh? The fight above Homeworld was worse: each time I entered one of those ships I knew I was condemning all aboard it to death...even though I kept telling myself that if I didn't kill them, they would soon be killing Juraians. It was the hardest thing I've ever done." Tenchi shuddered. "I've been wrestling with this conflict ever since, weighing the thrill of those god-like Power attributes against the consequences of using them."

"I've been there," Ryoko said softly, sitting on the bench next to him, taking his hand. "The memories, and the guilt, and the nightmares. Don't face those alone, Tenchi, it just makes the pain worse." He looked into her eyes, understanding a part of his wife for the very first time. "Let us help."

"I'm trying," he replied, and received an encouraging smile. "I know which path Kagato chose. And I've seen where it leads. Washu, what was he like before...?"

"Before he ran amok? He was a graduate student of mine, one of several. Very charming, very witty, very ambitious, very arrogant. Not only was he a strong Power adept, but an exceedingly intelligent one. I didn't know it at the time, but he was masterminding a number of illegal activities. Once he got access to my lab, and my facilities, he started trying to enhance his Power attributes. There is always a danger in biting off more than you can chew, and he was warned repeatedly about it." She shifted Achika. "There are some major differences between you and Kagato, Tenchi. For starters, you are a man of conscious and honor; his soul had already eroded before I ever laid eyes on him. You saw the dangers and stepped away from the precipice; he enthusiastically leaped over the edge. For another thing, his talents were artificially augmented, and he paid a heavy price for it. Your gifts are natural, and only manifest as you are ready for them. It took him nearly a century to get as far you have in two years."

"You told me once that male Power adepts take 40 or 50 years to mature. I'm only 21; what other 'gifts' can I expect to appear in the next 25 years?"

She smiled and wrapped an arm around him. "I have no idea, my love. And that's what makes living with you so fascinating — never a dull minute!"

"You also have us," Ryoko said, putting her head on his shoulder. "We won't allow you to mutate into that kind of hellspawn."

Tenchi felt other hands touch him, and whispers of support from the darkness behind. He continued to stare into the night. "I also keep thinking about that time spent on Earth. If we hadn't gone there, we'd have been here the whole time, and we might have saved the lives of all those Juraian soldiers and sailors killed during the incursion."

"If we hadn't gone to Earth, Beloved, the K'vimm would have taken Funaho," Ayeka replied. "They might have even killed Yosho and your father."

"If we had stayed on Earth, the loss of life here would have been even higher," Mihoshi added.

"And what if your new Power attributes hadn't surfaced at all?" Sasami asked.

"'If, if, if.' Tenchi, don't dishonor the dead with regrets or excuses," Kiyone said. "They sacrificed their lives so that there would be a future for the citizens of Jurai. Including your daughter."

"And your son," Ayeka said.

"Huh?" came the chorus from everyone but Ryoko, who chuckled.

Ayeka circled the bench and knelt in front of Tenchi, so that she could look into his face. "Your son will be born next year, just in time for Startica."

"Our son," he corrected her, touching her face, smiling at last.

Ayeka hesitated. "Beloved, would you have any objections to naming him 'Azusa?'" She searched his eyes, half hidden in shadow. She remembered only too well that her father and her husband had never really gotten along.

"None whatsoever," he replied. 

**EPILOGUE**

_"The riddle of steel," murmured Conan, remembering the words of his father, the Cimmerian smith._

_ "Yes, you know that riddle, do you not?" The cult leader's voice was intimate, persuasive. Speaking as to a friend, Doom's words continued emotionless, hypnotic, brimming with deceit. "In those days, I deemed steel stronger than all things, even than human flesh and spirit. But I was wrong, boy! I was wrong! The soul of man or woman can master everything, even steel! Look you, boy — "_

_ Raising his hypnotic eyes, he fixed them upon the sweet face of the smiling girl above them on the wall._

_ "Come to me, child," he hissed, his sibilant voice scarcely above a whisper._

_ The childish face became suffused with joy. She poised for a moment at the edge of the embankment; then, without a glance at the youth beside her, she leaped from the wall and fell with a heavy thud on the tiles of the garden walk below._

_ Conan averted his eyes from the doll-like broken body near their feet. Doom laughed, the music of his laughter spun through with a note of triumph. Then he said: "That is strength, boy — that is power! It is strength against which the hardness of steel or the resilience of human flesh are as naught. What is steel, compared to the hand that wields it; what is the hand, without a mind to command it? There is the secret of strength. Steel, bah!"_

"Conan the Barbarian"  
— L. Sprague De Camp and Lin Carter  
Based on a screenplay by John Milius and Oliver Stone

Washu sat in her rocking chair, singing a lullaby to Achika. The chair was placed on the veranda, overlooking the gardens immediately surrounding the Imperial Palace. The acreage was enclosed in a dense screen of trees, which swayed ever-so-gently in the afternoon breeze. Above the field the clouds marched majestically, casting ponderous shadows onto the rolling countryside. Birds chased one another, leaves whispered, and the chair squeaked rhythmically. On the lawn below, Washu's family gathered around the circular stone table. It had started when Tenchi wandered outside, looking for a quiet place to study in the irresistible afternoon sunlight. Shortly afterwards, Ayeka, Sasami, and the convalescing Misaki had ventured outside, lost in a conversation about babies and nurseries. They had joined him at his invitation. Then Funaho had lead Ryoko, Mihoshi, and Kiyone outside, carrying pocket-terminals and reference books and charts, and had commandeered another slice of the table to plan their first assignment together. Their voices were subdued, and provided yet another murmur to harmonize with Washu's lullaby.

There had been activity, of course. Sasami went into the kitchen frequently to check on dinner, once bringing a plate of cookies to pass around the table. Funaho sent Mihoshi inside after a reference manual, and Mihoshi had stopped on the way back to nuzzle Tenchi's neck. Since her hair was now unbound it cascaded around her shoulders in golden waves, and he had grabbed a handful and tugged gently until her lips were in reach of his own. Ayeka and Ryoko promptly demanded — and received — equal attention, accompanied by much giggling and laughing. And they all waved frequently at Washu and the sleeping infant.

Washu was at peace with the universe.

"Such an idyllic scene," said the deep, feminine voice. Tsunami shimmered into visibility beside the rocking chair.

"It sure is," Washu replied.

"It is unfortunate that such peaceful moments do not last."

"All the more reason to treasure them," Washu replied, kissing her daughter's forehead lightly.

"What do your forecasts and projections reveal?"

"The same thing that your visions and prognostications do: Tenchi's Power will dwarf us all eventually."

"You must realize that he is an aberration. A mutation, born a thousand generations too soon."

Washu shrugged. "That depends upon your point of view. I prefer to think of him as the first of his kind, rather than one of a kind."

Tsunami gestured towards the sleeping Achika. "You have good reason to take that position."

"Do you regret saving Tenchi's life?"

"No, of course not. Even if I had lacked feelings for the boy, Sasami would never have forgiven me."

Washu nodded. "You didn't have to unlock his Power attributes, you know."

"He never could have defeated Kagato without them. He would have surely died. And if by some miracle he had survived the encounter, then his Power would have found another outlet. Such potentials must be fulfilled, one way or another. This way, we have some influence. Does that bother you, Sister?"

"Nope. Not one bit." Washu turned to look at the shimmering figure beside her. "Let's face facts, Sister. Each of us assumed a different form, placing ourselves and our energies into a species native to this galaxy capable of handling our Power. The experiment was less than successful: we were unable to produce offspring that matched our capabilities. So we chose avatars, my Ryoko and your Sasami, and in that our successes were still less than anticipated. It is Tenchi who has risen to the task, and I thank the gods that he appeared when he did."

"Ryoko will recover her gems within two years, and Sasami will pass through puberty shortly afterwards. Doesn't this concern you?"

"Not as much as it did."

"Why? What has changed?"

"Because the breadth of Tenchi's Power is only matched by the depth of his character. He strengthens all those around him. Ryoko and Sasami are being redeemed. I have greater hope for our future."

"But it will take time, Sister. Tokimi may not grant us enough time."

Washu sighed. "Then we will do the best with what we have. But what we have is formidable." 

**#################### Author's Notes ####################**

The following thoughts are posted as a mini-FAQ, in an effort to provide answers for those readers who are scratching their heads over some of the positions and opinions stated in the above story.

_**KAGATO AND WASHU:**_

I have seen suggestions in other fan-fics that Washu and Kagato may have been lovers in the old days. I personally doubt it, based on one observation and one supposition.

The observation: she was dumped into a stasis chamber on the Souja while in her adolescent form, and I have to assume that during her last stressful moments, she would not have been wasting time/energy switching shapes trying to convince him to change his mind. I expect that this was the form she had settled upon long before accepting him as a graduate student.

The supposition: They had too much in common to 'click'. She had a higher morality base, he had fewer scruples, but they both shared too many personality traits. It's the opposites that attract, after all.

_**KAGATO AND RYOKO:**_

I think there's a pretty good case for naming Kagato as Ryoko's 'father.' His hair is more of a silverish color than her cyan, and his eyes are totally golden as opposed to her pupils. But I'm guessing these were changes from the base characteristics brought on by aging and then loss of his corporeal constitution. In other words, he was no longer completely human, but he looked a bit different when he was completely human. And what sealed the deal for me was comparing their Power attributes. The following information is based upon the details and graphics at "Kagato's Special Abilities" (_Link removed by the editor_) and "Ryoko's Powers" (_Link removed by the editor_):

* Teleportation — Both individuals make use of this talent, although we see Ryoko using it more frequently.  
* Flight and Levitation — Both of them seem to prefer floating to walking (heck, so would I!).  
* Shield — His is quite powerful, hers seems less effective.  
* Energy Sword — Different shapes, different colors, similar functionality.  
* Energy Blasts — Projectile variations on the sword, tailored to each person.  
* Shadows/Doppelgangers — They each demonstrated the ability only once, so it must be energy-intensive.  
* Matter Conversion — Limited application, also probably energy-intensive. Useful in combat.  
* Non-corporeal Form — i.e., "phasing" through walls, floors, etc.  
* Mind Link — Between Kagato and Ryoko, between Kagato and the Souja, between Ryoko and Ryo-ohki (and Washu, of course).  
* Regeneration — Ryoko keeps growing new hands, Kagato healed Tenchi's cut on his cheek (but the damage from the Lighthawk Sword must have been too extensive).  
* Drawing Power through gems — Ryoko has her three red ones, Kagato has an undetermined number of (I'm guessing here) green gems.

Of course, each of them has unique Power attributes as well:

Kagato:

* Spirit Fire — Kagato uses this rather than a flashlight. A fire elemental, perhaps?  
* Gateway — Actually, this is the "transport sphere" I used in the story above.  
* Telekinesis — Making a grab for the Tenchi-ken, summoning a cyclone to employ against Tenchi, etc.  
* Mind Touch — This is NOT telepathy. It's actually closer to what I had Tenchi using in "And If I Fall".

Ryoko:

* Demon Summoning — Calling elementals. Possibly similar to Kagato's Spirit Fire.  
* Astral travel — Limited in scope and duration.

_**OTHER POWER USERS:**_

The following definitions were stolen shamelessly from "GURPS Psionics, Fantastic Powers of Mind Over Matter" by David L. Pulver, search the Catalog for "GURPS", and then stroll down the resulting list until you find "Psionics":

Tenchi:

* Autoteleport: This is the basic Teleport ability — the skill to move yourself from point-to-point without crossing the space between. You cannot go somewhere unless you have already been there, or can see it at the moment you are teleporting.  
* Exoteleport: This is the ability to transport objects from point-to-point, allowing you to teleport objects without teleporting yourself.

Mihoshi:

* Electrokinesis: This is the ability to mentally control computers and electrical and electronic systems. An electrokinetic must be able to see or touch the subject to affect it.  
Dampen: You can hinder the function of all electrical devices in the area by "slowing" the current that powers the object.  
Surge: This skill causes a power surge in an electrical device. You cannot "surge" an entire spacecraft or vehicle; you must target the specific electrical system.

* Limitations: Limitations reduce the utility of psi powers.  
Nuisance Effect: Your ability has an annoying side effect of some sort — something that actually causes harm to you or those around you, or causes you a serious inconvenience.  
Unconscious Only: This can be taken only in conjunction with the Uncontrollable limitation. The psi skill cannot be consciously activated at all; it can only come into play under stress.  
Uncontrollable: This limitation is only available for the Antipsi, Electrokinetic, Psychokinetic, and Teleport powers. Your power tends to manifest by itself — even your will — when you are angry or excited. This can be especially interesting if your skill is destructive and you have a high power.

_**INTERPLANETARY TRANSPORTATION:**_

I can just see the e-mail coming from those screaming about the travel times required to get around in the TM universe. Well, I got news for you: outer space is _vast_. There is slick little calculator at (_Link removed by the editor_) that will compute a model illustrating the scale distances involved in our own solar system. The premise is to place markings at appropriate distances on a roll of paper (toilet paper, printer paper, etc) to represent the nine planets. You will be amazed at the volume of empty space. For my own calculations (and remembering that this is just fiction, after all) I placed the psuedospace jump-point at approximately 4.3 AU (Astronomical Units, or 645,000,000 km, or 399,900,000 mi) from the average star. Which puts the corresponding distance between Earth/Jurai and the jump-point at roughly 3.3 AU (495,000,000 km, or 306,900,000 mi). And even allowing for Sir Arthur C. Clarke's Third Law ("Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic") to permit Juraian technology to generate tremendous speed, it is _still_ going to take a while to get anywhere.

For instance, it takes eight minutes for light to cover the distance between the sun and the Earth (1 AU, or 150,000,000 km, or 93,000,000 mi). A little work on a calculator shows that to cover the 3.3 AU from Earth to the jump-point will take 26 minutes. Not bad, just not realistic. However, if Juraian technomagic can boost a ship up to even 20% of light speed, then you could get to the jump-point in 550 minutes, or just over nine hours. Of course, at this speed the relativistic effects would become noticeable — but I kept such considerations to a minimum.

If Tenchi is zipping around at 70% light speed, then you can see a drastic reduction in travel time. The longest distance being from Earth to Pluto, or 39 AU, would take him just under eight hours.

And psuedospace is just guesswork and wishful thinking at this point.

_**SOLAR MECHANICS AND THE SUNBUSTER BOMB:**_

Coronal Mass Ejections (CMEs) are clouds of hot (1-2 million degrees) gasses ejected from the Sun at extremely high speeds. After acceleration away from the Sun, they will travel through interplanetary space and reach Earth in 2.5 to 5 days. Once here, CMEs cause disturbances in the magnetosphere, which trigger auroras, make magnetic navigation at high latitudes difficult, and sometimes cause current spikes in high-voltage power lines, resulting in power outages and occasionally in destruction of power equipment. They also can damage or destroy Earth-orbiting satellites.

Physicists theorize that fluctuations in the sun's magnetic field cause sunspots, flares and CMEs. CMEs can be massive objects; spanning 120° in solar latitude or longitude, they can involve 1016 g (i.e. billions of tons) of gas that is suddenly ejected at speeds up to 2000 km/s with a kinetic energy 1032 ergs, all directed outward into interplanetary space. The ongoing changes are not confined to the space immediately around the star. The sun's magnetic field envelops the entire solar system in a bubble that scientists call the 'heliosphere,' which extends 50 to 100 AU beyond the orbit of Pluto. Inside it is the solar system — outside is interstellar space. Changes in the Sun's magnetic field are carried outward through the heliosphere by the solar wind. It takes about a year for disturbances to propagate all the way from the Sun to the outer bounds of the heliosphere.

Empress Funaho was right to be concerned about Washu's sunbuster bomb being employed in an inhabited solar system. One of the most spectacular Y2K disaster scenarios was that a massive CME might strike the Earth, only instead of killing satellites and power grids, it would directly kill people by sudden heating of the environment. Ramping-up the temperatures of the atmosphere and the ocean surface would generate extreme weather conditions across the entire globe. Think: El Nino On Steroids. Setting off such a devastating weapon ranks a notch or two above genocide, since you'd be inflicting ecological damage on a massive scale. Sooner or later, someone/something is going to hold you accountable...

_**MISCELLANEOUS:**_

I wasn't the first person to apply Matthew Sweet's "Walk Out" or 3 Doors Down's "Kryptonite" to TM. You will find anime music videos by BuggyNess ("Tenchi's Walk Out") and Slayerwolf ("Super Tenchi") — both have stories posted on the TMFFA — at that are quite well done, and inspired me to use them here. In fact, these are the audiovisual equivalents to the fanfics found on TMFFA. I highly recommend perusing their archives (I have several favorites I've downloaded and committed to CD).

There's an awful lot of information in the story above. Some of it is pure conjecture on my part, trying to stay consistent with the OVA and the other three stories in this series ("Kime", "We Belong", "And If I Fall"). However, many of the background details were gleaned from the "Tenchi Muyo In Depth Alternate Universes" website (_Link removed by the editor_). Honestly, I wish I'd read this FAQ before I ever started writing TM fan-fics. I might have done a better job of keeping the facts straight...then again, I might never have taken the wild tangent I did, either. Go figure.

I got quite a bit of e-mail after about the first three stories (Thank You, by the way), and the most commonly asked question was: "Where's Kiyone?" So, just for you folks, I included her in this story. However, I admit to having mixed feelings about it. First off, she was never really in the OVA (just the "Mihoshi Special"), and though she is one of the most popular characters from the TV shows, she really doesn't belong in the OVA continuity. Second off, she disrupts the continuity for Mihoshi. To quote from the above-named FAQ: "Many fans like Kiyone but point out that Kiyone's character destroys Mihoshi's character and the foil relationship between Washu and Mihoshi." I agree, and feel that Mihoshi has been terribly 'dumbed-down' to make her a poorly-portrayed comic relief. I much prefer to see her as a blonde Columbo — kinda rambling and ditzy, but extremely competent. If I write any more fan-fics in this series, I would portray the Kiyone-Ryoko-Mihoshi team of Special Investigators as a cross between The Marx Brothers (Groucho-Chico-Harpo), who were accomplished musicians and performers, and Charlie's Angels ("Tenchi's Angels," anyone?), who are proficient detectives and martial artists. Stupid or bubbleheaded caricatures will NOT appear.

If you are at all interested in how fleet actions could be fought in interplanetary or interstellar space, I highly recommend reading the The Lensman series by E.E. 'Doc' Smith. These are classic space opera novels written on an epic scale. There are several fleet battles, described in sufficient detail to satisfy even the staunchest 'hard science' sci-fi fan (like me). For a complete list of the series, check out the website at (_Link removed by the editor_).

The title of this story is from the Japanese verb 'katanawoutsu': to temper or forge a sword.

The characters of Tenchi Muyo were created by Masaki Kajashima, and brought to North America by Pioneer LDC. This story, while incorporating names and situations held under copyright by others, is copyright 2002 by Jeffery L. Harris.

This story comes entirely from my imagination, and is not, nor intended to be, canon. Please do not send the legions of lawyers after me...it's not worth their time, or mine.

Any questions or comments should be directed to:

Jeffery L Harris  
Subject: "Katanawoutsu"


	6. EPISODE 5  Koodori

_Chorus:_

_You spin me inside, outside  
You know you hold me so tight  
We'll dance and party all night  
Mambo Mambolé  
So kiss me in the moonlight  
You know it always feels right  
We'll dance and party all night  
Mambo Mambolé_

_You're on my mind every day you are with me  
And every night, boy, you're dancing by me  
We dance united, together we are one  
I'll take you there, baby, come home with me  
Ahhhhh..._

_Chorus_

_I'm in love with your voice and your laughter  
And just one smile always makes me believe  
Our destiny curious if you are mine  
Won't you tell me that we're meant to be  
Ahhhhh..._

_Chorus_

_Mambo Maboleo, Mambo Mambolé (x4)  
When you dance with me boy  
I know you feel my equal (x2)  
Mambo Maboleo, Mambo Mambolé (x4)  
Ahhhhh..._

_Chorus (x2)_

_La la la la la la la  
La la la la la la  
La la la la la la la  
La la la la la _

Title: "Mamboleo"  
Artist: Elissa

**06:30 am**

Tenchi woke floating.

It was not a new sensation. He had been subjected to microgravity on any number of occasions, though he never really got too enthusiastic over it. It was the circumstances that usually got him excited.

Take this particular instance, for example: he was naked, as was his wife; she had her arms and legs wrapped around him, and her head hovered over his left shoulder; and they were swaddled in loosely wound blankets. Tenchi listened to her gentle snoring, and when he moved she responded by tightening her grip.

"Mihoshi?" he whispered. He eased her head and shoulders away, bringing her face into view. Framed as it was by her gently billowing cloud of golden hair, she looked remarkably angelic. "Mihoshi?"

The cool breeze that filled the new gap between them caused her to shiver, and she opened her eyes. They were as blue as the sky, and just as deep. She smiled. "Hi."

"It's time to wake up," Tenchi said, returning her smile.

"Oh, I suppose." She withdrew her arms from the blankets and extended them like wings, arching backwards as she stretched. Still anchored by her legs, her motion caused a rolling oscillation in their weightless formation. Tenchi suppressed his urge to panic, knowing that she was accomplished at zero-gee acrobatics. As expected, she stopped their yawing spin by snapping her arms back around him. The motions cancelled one another, and they hovered calmly. They were nose-to-nose, and she kissed him gently.

"I know we've been married for over a year, but would you please tell me again why we sleep in here, rather than in the bed?" He nodded towards the four-poster visible beyond the glowing wall of the force field.

"Because I spend three weeks out of every month alone in that bed. When you're with me, I don't want to waste the time tossing and turning and fighting over the blankets. In here, I can sleep all night with you in my arms, and never need to change positions. This is our special place."

"Oh," he replied.

"Are you _sure_ we have to wake up?" she asked, kissing his neck.

"Yes. My belly is empty and my bladder is full."

"H-m-m-m, now that you mention it, so are mine." She began a series of small movements designed to send them drifting down to the controls in the floor. Tenchi recalled how she had used similar movements the night before — several times — with a much more erotic purpose in mind. She was watching his face, and grinned as his thoughts revealed themselves.

"I could just teleport us out of here," he offered.

"Now where's the fun in that?" she giggled. She reached outwards slowly and pressed the control panel, and gravity returned as the walls of the shield faded. They steadied each other for a moment, but maintained the embrace even after the re-acclimation. Her mood turned somber. "Well, so much for this month." She was referring to the fact that it was the end of her week, and tonight would begin Ayeka's turn.

"Mihoshi? Do you ever regret this arrangement?"

She pulled away from him just far enough to look into his eyes. "Never. The day you asked me to marry you I knew I couldn't have you all to myself. And three weeks without you is a small price to pay for one week with you." She smiled for him, canting her head slightly. "Besides, the perks that come with being an empress are pretty good compensation."

**06:42 am**

Washu was sitting at the dining room table, holding Achika and watching as Sasami set the breakfast dishes on the table. "Are you sure you don't need any help?"

"No thanks, Washu. I've got it." She was humming happily, especially cheerful. After all, there was a Royal Ball tonight, and that meant dancing and music and pretty costumes. She was looking forward to it.

Washu shrugged and played with Achika, who was steadily drooling down her nightie. Washu casually reached into a hole that appeared in the air behind her, and withdrew a bib decorated with crabs and Lighthawk Wings. She pulled this over her daughter's head. She heard a door open and looked up to see Tenchi and Mihoshi walking into the dining room. Both faces lit-up when they saw Washu and Achika.

Tenchi kissed Washu and lifted his daughter up to his shoulder. Mihoshi put a kiss on the baby's cheek and went into the kitchen. "How's daddy's little princess this morning, eh?" He pulled out the chair next to Washu and sat down, shifting Achika onto his lap.

"Drooling like a leaky faucet," Washu replied. "She must get that from her daddy."

"Ha, ha," he replied drolly.

Washu leaned forward to whisper to her daughter. "Must be daddy's sloppy kisses, huh?" She looked up to see Tenchi's lopsided grin, and the tilt of his eyebrows promised retribution at another time and place. Her own eyebrows wriggled in response.

Just then Tenchi's shirt began pulling in different directions, and a pair of female hands appeared. The attached arms twined around his shoulders, where a mop of spiky cyan hair protruded. "Good morning, Darling!"

"Good morning, Ryoko," he replied, enduring the glomping calmly.

Ryoko started to slide onto his lap and discovered it was already occupied. "Hey! Since when did you start sitting in Auntie Ryoko's place?" She poked Achika's belly gently and kissed her forehead. The kiss she gave daddy was much longer. "We'll continue this later," she whispered into his ear, and then sat in the chair next to him. She nodded to Washu, who smiled back.

"My, what a noisy group this morning," Ayeka said around a yawn. She walked into the dining room belly-first, heading directly for her husband. A peck on the cheek, a kiss for the baby, and she settled into the chair next to Washu. "Good morning, Washu."

"'Morning, Ayeka. How are you feeling?" She gestured towards Ayeka's swollen stomach.

"He's been running laps all night," she answered, placing a hand on her belly. "I think he wants to play with his sister."

"All in due time," Washu replied. She watched as Ryoko lifted the baby from Tenchi's lap.

"Well, you certainly are wet this morning. Tell you what, let's sit here and watch Auntie Ayeka drool all over herself — maybe you can learn a few new techniques."

Ayeka refused to rise to the bait. "I think she's already found the expert in that area."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that you can probably teach her more about disgusting habits and rude behavior than I will ever be able to."

Ryoko stuck out her tongue, which Ayeka mirrored.

"Oh, good, everyone's awake!" Sasami brought in a tray of hot food, followed by Mihoshi with a tray containing a teapot and cups.

"Gee, Sasami, you're sure chipper this morning," Ryoko observed. She passed the baby back to Tenchi, and started filling her plate.

"The Ball is tonight! I think we'll all have a lot fun." She took her seat at the table. "Kiyone is coming, isn't she?"

"Uh, huh," Mihoshi nodded.

"Has she got a date?" Ryoko asked.

Mihoshi nodded again.

"Who?" Ayeka asked.

"One of the knights she met at Tenchi's coronation. I forget his name. You can ask her yourself when she comes over later."

"When is that?" Washu asked.

"Sometime this morning, so we can look over dresses for tonight."

"Oooh, sounds like fun. Can I help?"

"Sure, Sasami. Pass me the tea, will you?"

**07:12 am**

"_Empress_ Ryoko Masaki Jurai...now doesn't that sound marvelous?" Ryoko asked. She pushed away her breakfast dishes and leaned back, her appetite for mischief replacing her appetite for food.

"Don't be so enamored of that title," Ayeka replied. "It's honorary, not official. You remain a consort."

"Hmmmph. You're just mad because you have to share it."

"And you're just mad because _I_ am an empress in name and fact."

"I hate to break it to you, little princess, but you're still a consort, too. I don't recall anyone putting a crown on _your_ head — just Tenchi's." Ryoko smiled, baring her fangs.

"Ooooh! It is fortunate for you that I am restricted from using my Power attributes during this pregnancy."

"Admit it: you're just hiding behind that fetus."

That barb stung. Ryoko's eyes twinkled as Ayeka rose ponderously from her seat, pushing her chair backwards as her belly settled on the edge of the table. She laid her palms on the tabletop and leaned forward, glaring at Ryoko. "Are you insinuating that I am a coward?" she hissed.

Sasami and Mihoshi exchanged nervous glances, and Washu grumbled irritably. Tenchi handed Achika back to Washu, who watched as he rose silently and went into the common room.

Ryoko's wolfish grin spread wider. "Did I say that? Perhaps that's just your guilty conscience pricking you, not your son moving around."

Tenchi reappeared in the doorway. "Ladies?"

"My conscience is clear. You're the one that struggles with your baser instincts: your gold-digging opportunism is just another bad habit from your days as a pirate." Her lips spread into a predatory smile. "It's probably just a matter of time before Tenchi has to issue another public pardon for you."

"Ladies!" Tenchi said again, louder and sharper.

Ryoko leapt to her feet, and the table shook as she slammed her hands down onto its surface. Her nose was nearly touching Ayeka's, and sparks flickered in the air between their eyes. "Better watch yourself, little princess. You may be biting off more than you can chew."

"LADIES!" Tenchi's voice had escalated to a tone he rarely used. Command authority (backed by the awesome power he wielded) could not be ignored. Both women paused, faces flushed, turning to face the Emperor. "Come here." Reluctantly, they approached, shoulder to shoulder, expecting a lecture at the least, a tongue-lashing at the worst. What they received surprised them both: he withdrew his arms from behind his back, a large pillow dangling from each hand. "Choose your weapons."

Each woman's face rippled with emotions: shock relief wicked glee. They reached for the pillows.

"Ah-ah-ah! You have to promise to keep it in there," he said, indicating the common room, "and to keep the breakage to a minimum."

"Deal!" Ryoko said, grabbing a pillow and kissing his cheek.

"Agreed!" Ayeka said, snatching the other pillow and kissing his other cheek.

Side-by-side they disappeared into the common room. The shouting resumed immediately.

Tenchi just shook his head and returned to his seat at the table.

Washu smirked with admiration. "Well done, Dear." Sasami and Mihoshi nodded, both visibly relieved by the argument's relocation.

"They haven't had a real knock-down-drag-out fight in a couple of months. They're overdue. This way there won't be any scratches or bruises or burns to complicate things before tonight's Ball."

"I agree completely," Washu answered. "You know, for a moment there I thought you were running out on us." Her gesture included Mihoshi and Sasami, as well as herself and the baby.

"Well, I did consider it," he sighed. "But those days are over." There was a loud _thump_ from the common room. "At least there is nothing truly valuable in there."

"Mihoshi, will you help me clear away the dishes?" Sasami asked.

Mihoshi nodded, rising.

"And I should probably get ready for my morning meeting," Tenchi said. He stood, gave each a kiss, and then teleported directly to his room.

By the time Tenchi had showered, shaved, and dressed, the sounds of struggle from the common room had subsided. He considered just teleporting directly to the garage, leaving Ryoko behind. But he knew he would catch hell from her for leaving without her, and Funaho would give him grief for leaving the palace grounds without his bodyguard. Yielding to practicality, he opened his door and looked around. Half the furniture had been upended, one bookshelf had been emptied, and all of the lamps lay scattered about the floor. Each of the combatants sat in chairs, breathing heavily, hair askew, limbs akimbo, and looking remarkably satisfied. "Feel better?"

"Yes," Ayeka replied.

"Yep," Ryoko answered. She noticed his clothes. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I have a meeting at the admiralty this morning."

"Not without me, you don't," she floated out of her chair and vanished. She appeared moments later in her security uniform, hair combed, face washed, and communicator clipped to her belt. "Ready whenever you are, lover."

**09:07 am**

"A _pillowfight_?" The question came from Kiyone who stood just inside the common room door beside Funaho and Misaki. The latter two simply chuckled.

"Yes," Ayeka replied, blushing. She and Sasami and Mihoshi were putting a sofa back on its feet. Sasami and Mihoshi giggled.

"Actually, it was Tenchi's idea," Washu said in Ayeka's defense. Ayeka flashed her a grateful smile.

"Tenchi _sanctioned_ this?" Kiyone still sounded incredulous.

"Personally, I thought it was a masterstroke of diplomacy," Washu said. "No one was hurt, it relieved the stress, and nothing of any value was broken." Washu passed Achika into Misaki's outstretched hands.

"Although I think I pulled a muscle," Ayeka said quietly, rubbing her lower back.

"If its any consolation, Ryoko was limping a little," Washu smirked.

"Have I ever mentioned how refreshing it is to visit this wing of the Palace?" Funaho asked. "It always puts my day in perspective. Sasami, Dear, do you have any tea brewed?"

"Sure do. You want some, Mother? Kiyone?" Misaki and Kiyone both nodded.

"We'll join you as soon as we're done in here," Ayeka said.

"Where's Ryoko?" Kiyone asked, pausing to look again at the clutter. "She helped make this mess."

"True, but she had to accompany Tenchi on his errands. That had the higher priority."

**10:41 am**

Ryoko followed Tenchi into the limousine, settling beside him on the bench seat. She nodded as the engine revved to life and the gravitics kicked-in, lifting them away from the admiralty roof pad, the honor guard, and the knot of saluting flag officers. Around them, the security detail assumed formation. Their car changed direction until its nose pointed toward the Palace. She relaxed.

In fact, she slid onto her husband's lap and began nuzzling his neck. "T-e-n-n-n-c-h-i-i-i-i...?" she whispered.

"H-m-m-m?" he answered, lost in thought.

"Whatcha thinkin'?" she began nibbling on his ear.

"About the meeting," he replied absently.

"Know what I'm thinkin'?"

"No, Ryoko, what are you thinking?"

"That we're all alone in here, and I have to wait another week to be with you, and a week is a long time, and did I mention that we're all alone in here?"

"You're incorrigible," he said.

"No, I'm horny."

"We'll be back at the Palace in fifteen minutes. There isn't time."

"There is if I tell the driver to make it an hour and fifteen minutes." Before he could object, she floated up and through the privacy shield. He watched her speak to the driver, who grinned and nodded. Ryoko phased back into the passenger compartment just as all of the windows darkened. Tenchi's last view of the driver before the panel went opaque was of him laughing into a headset.

Before returning to his lap, Ryoko phased out of her uniform, which dropped to the floor like a deflated balloon. She started untying his tunic lacing.

"You know, I should learn that trick."

"All it takes is practice, lover." She pushed him onto his back and straddled him. "I sure am glad these seats are so big!"

**10:48 am**

Kiyone followed Mihoshi into her suite, stopping to stare at the zero-gee generator that occupied a sizeable portion of the bedroom. "You know, Mihoshi, I still can't believe you have that thing in here."

"That was my wedding present from Washu," Mihoshi replied, as she flipped through the gowns hanging in her closet. "I also use it to meet my zero-gee simulator requirements. I've actually improved my maneuverability rating!"

"Uh, if you don't mind my asking, just how did you learn to use it for...?"

"Zero-gee sex? From those manuals over there." She pointed towards a stack of disks sitting on a shelf. Kiyone walked over and retrieved the top disk, reading the label. Her eyes bulged.

"Mihoshi, where did you get these?"

"Do you remember Nenora Shyzira over in Vice?" Kiyone nodded. "Well, there was a big raid on an orbiting brothel in her sector a while back, and one of the confiscated documents was that multi-part training manual. It was so thoroughly detailed and illustrated that dozens of informal copies got passed around the sector office. I made a deal with her to get a copy, once Tenchi and I decided where we were spending our honeymoon." Mihoshi started pulling gowns out of the closet, laying them across her bed. "What do you think of this blue dress?"

"That one looks good, and that red one is promising." She returned the disk to its stack and walked over to the closet. They soon had a small pile of dresses.

Mihoshi yawned, loud and long.

Kiyone grinned at her. "What's the matter, Tenchi keep you up last night?"

"Actually, I kept him up." She paused, and then giggled at the double entendre. "We didn't go to sleep until well past midnight."

"Well, you don't look any worse for wear," Kiyone replied, referring to the fact that sex between Power adepts could get downright debilitating if pushed to extremes.

"I have to admit, I am starting to feel that feverish/numb sensation. The burn-out will get worse over the next couple of days." Mihoshi sat on the bed, sorting though the gowns. She stopped to look at the zero-gee generator and sighed. "My week ended this morning, and I miss him already."

Kiyone sat on the opposite side of the dress pile. "Mihoshi? Do you ever regret this arrangement?"

"Funny, Tenchi asked me the same thing this morning. I keep telling myself that it's just like being married to a sailor, and that he is gone three weeks out of every four. I can see him and talk to him, of course; I just can't 'have' him. No, I don't regret this arrangement, but I do resent it sometimes. I get kinda lonesome..."

"Would you ever consider, you know, cheating? Or divorce?"

Mihoshi shook her head emphatically. "No! I love him, and he loves me. We can't help it if the circumstances are just so unusual. It could be much worse." She brushed moisture from the corner of one eye, and sniffed. "I'll never give him up." She gathered her dresses and headed for the door, with Kiyone following slowly behind her.

**11:53 am**

Tenchi and Ryoko entered the common room. Neither was surprised to see it had been cleaned-up, although Ryoko cackled quietly at having gotten out of yet another chore. Tenchi frowned at her.

They found the dining room table covered with dresses, magazines, and a couple of make-up cases. Funaho and Washu sat at one end of the table, chairs pulled together so they could look at the reports and diagrams displayed by her spectral computer. Everyone else was in the kitchen, working on lunch...and singing. Ryoko followed the a cappella harmony, Tenchi grabbed a chair at random and plopped into it.

"Welcome back, sweetie," Washu said without looking up. "How was your meeting?"

"They want more money, as usual. And they're eager to see the prototype you've been working on."

"All in due time," she replied.

"They always want more money," Funaho added. "They usually have good intentions, but their accountability leaves something to be desired. What did you tell them?"

"Money doesn't grow on trees...even Royal Trees. The Ministry of Finance will have to be consulted."

"Good answer." She smiled at her great-grandson, who grinned back.

There was a peal of laughter from the kitchen, a short verbal exchange, and another chorus was launched. Tenchi leaned on the table, listening. He liked what he heard. A clatter of utensils and a second burst of laughter terminated the tune.

"Oh, hi, Tenchi!" Sasami beamed, peeking around the doorjamb. "Hungry?"

"Yeah, I am, as a matter of fact."

"Well, lunch won't be long. Hey!" she turned to face into the kitchen. "Get your stuff off of the table — unless you want your dresses used as placemats!"

Mihoshi and Ayeka entered the room, smiled for their husband, gathered the gowns, and disappeared into the common room. Tenchi heard two doors open and close. Kiyone strolled in from the kitchen, nibbling on a carrot. She nodded to Tenchi, and passed a carrot to Ryo-ohki, who "Miya!"-ed and scampered under the table.

"How are you today, Kiyone?"

"Not bad," she answered, sitting on the edge of the table. "I got my reports done for Lady Funaho, A letter written to my parents, and my dress ready for tonight. And all by noon!"

"Did you help Mihoshi get squared away?"

"Yeah, that too." She started stacking magazines and sealing make-up cases. "How about you?"

"Another meeting." Mihoshi and Ayeka returned, removed the magazines and cases, and disappeared again. "So, I hear you're going to the Ball tonight?"

Kiyone expelled an irritated sigh. "As I've already explained to the interrogators," she nodded towards the kitchen, "I'm going with Sir Trinnard Qualston."

"That's nice," he said. His lack of curiosity had a calming effect on Kiyone (one less nose inserted into her private life). His eyes focused on the clouds visible through the windows, and his mind drifted away to another place and time. When he looked up again, he saw Kiyone's, Ayeka's, and Mihoshi's backs passing into the kitchen. There was more jostling crockery and the singing started again. His thoughts centered on their voices, and an idea popped into his head. He spent several moments considering it, approaching it from different angles.

"Uh, oh, I recognize that look," Washu's voice intruded into his ruminations. She was just dismissing her keyboard, and Funaho studied him from behind a bemused expression.

"What look?" Tenchi asked innocently.

"That I-just-had-an-epiphany look. Should I go get you a can of whoop-ass or a dose of reality?"

"Ha, ha. And I still owe you for that 'sloppy kisses' remark you made this morning."

"Oh? And just when do you intend to collect, h-m-m-m?" Her lecherous grin was obvious — and hopeful.

"Lunch is ready!" Sasami announced, carrying a tureen in from the kitchen. The others followed, bearing bowls, platters, a teapot, and cups. Last through the door was Misaki, carrying a laughing Achika. Achika was passed to her mommy, and everyone sat down.

The meal commenced, although Tenchi was content to just watch the activity.

"Aren't you eating, Tenchi?" Ryoko asked.

"Oh, yeah," he replied, reaching for the ladle. "Not enough sleep lately, I guess." Everyone else in the room turned to look at Mihoshi, who blushed and giggled.

"Actually, he's chewing over some new idea," Washu announced.

"What idea is that, Beloved?" Ayeka asked.

"Well, as I was listening to you ladies singing in there, a thought occurred to me."

"Only one? You need more practice." Ryoko laughed at her own jest.

"What's your idea, Tenchi?" Sasami asked.

"Why don't we hire a vocal coach? You ladies always had fun singing along with the karaoke machine, but you hardly ever sang together. Maybe some professional pointers would make singing as a group more interesting."

"What a novel idea!" Ayeka exclaimed. Ryoko, Mihoshi, Kiyone, and Sasami agreed; Washu merely raised an eyebrow and exchanged glances with Funaho.

"If you'd like, I can locate a good teacher for you," Misaki offered.

**12:26 pm**

"Well, I hate to eat and run, but I have a lot to do this afternoon. As always, Sasami, the soup was great."

"Thanks, Kiyone. I'll look for you at the Ball tonight."

"I'll be there. 'Bye, all!" Kiyone's footsteps echoed from the common room, finally stopped by the sound of a closing door.

Ayeka rose and began gathering bowls. Mihoshi started collecting cups. Ryoko leaned back to watch.

"You managed to avoid tidying-up the common room this morning, but we expect you to help with the lunch dishes." Ayeka glared at Ryoko.

To everyone's surprise, Ryoko smiled and started gathering silverware. "Not a problem."

"Thanks, Ryoko," Sasami said.

"Sure, Kiddo." Ryoko waited until Tenchi was watching her, then winked conspiratorially. She carried her load into the kitchen.

"Ryoko? What are you wearing tonight?" Mihoshi asked, as she followed Ryoko into the kitchen. Ryoko's reply was muffled.

Cleanup only took a few minutes, and then everyone was back at the table. They were all staring at Tenchi.

"Uh, now what?" he asked.

"Well..." Sasami answered. She slipped from her chair, circled the table, and dropped onto his lap. "I think it's time to reward the cook with a free-fall ride!"

Tenchi laughed. "But I just ate!"

"No excuses. Let's go!"

"Yes, Princess, as you command." Tenchi wrapped his arms around her and they vanished.

"Hey! Wait for me!" Ryoko floated above the table and vanished as well.

"What's that all about?" Funaho asked. Tenchi's wives chuckled.

"Just a little entertainment, Lady Funaho. They'll be back in a minute," Mihoshi replied.

Sure enough, Tenchi and Sasami reappeared in an empty corner. They were red-faced and wind-blown, and Sasami was laughing uproariously. She grabbed Ayeka's arms and pulled her to her feet. "You're next, Sister!"

"Now Sasami, I don't know if this is — " Ayeka's reply was cut-off as Tenchi's arms encircled her and they disappeared.

"Oh, that is so much fun!" She ran over and gave her mother a big hug.

"Sasami, your skin is cold! Where were you?"

Sasami just giggled, and started tugging Mihoshi out of her chair. "C'mon, Mihoshi, they'll be back in a minute!"

Tenchi and Ayeka _blinked_ into the corner. Ayeka's azure hair was frizzed wildly, and her clothes were rumpled. Her face was red, and she was laughing so hard so that she had to lean against a wall for support.

"Next!" Tenchi said. Mihoshi leaped into his arms and they teleported.

"Washu?"

"Now, Sasami, it isn't very dignified..."

"If _I_ can do it, you most certainly can," Ayeka said.

"Oh, very well. You kids are impossible." She stood and passed Achika back to Misaki, then started around the table.

Tenchi and Mihoshi reappeared. Mihoshi's blond hair sprayed backwards like a shock of drying grain. She was giggling and hopping with excitement. She kissed Tenchi's cheek before prancing away. Washu stepped into Tenchi's arms, and they vanished.

"Where _have_ you been?" Misaki asked.

Sasami looked at Ayeka, and grinned. "Maybe Tenchi should give Mother a ride."

"What a charming idea," Ayeka replied, grinning wickedly. "Here, Mother, I will hold the baby while you — "

"I don't think so, Ayeka."

"Oh, c'mon," Sasami pleaded. "It's fun!"

"Are you afraid, Mother?" Ayeka asked, eyebrow raised and head canted.

Tenchi and Washu _blinked_ back into the room. Washu's red hair spikes were practically horizontal, and she was chuckling.

Ryoko reappeared. "Any more takers?"

"I believe my mother is next," Ayeka answered.

Ryoko's fangs appeared, her smile mirroring Ayeka's. "Way to go, Lady Misaki! What about you, Lady Funaho?"

"If Misaki will do it, I will do it."

Misaki conceded defeat. "Alright, Tenchi, let's go." Tenchi's face was bright red, whether wind-blown or embarrassed no one could say. He put his arms around his mother-in-law's waist and they disappeared. Ryoko vanished as well.

"Could you at least give me a clue as to what this is all about?" Funaho asked. All she received were grins. She rose from her seat, double-checking the fasteners on her robes.

Tenchi and Misaki reappeared. Misaki was laughing, trying to pull her hair down and robes closed. "Thank, you, Tenchi. That was certainly memorable!"

Funaho mustered her dignity and stepped forward. "Proceed," she told her great-grandson. He stepped behind her, she felt his arms tighten around her waist, and the sudden disorientation of teleportation. Her eyes closed reflexively.

When she opened her eyes, her breath caught in her throat. They were three-and-a-half kilometers _above_ the palace and falling. Fast. She fought the urge to panic. Tenchi was still behind her, keeping her steadied facedown, and Ryoko was flying alongside. The air was clear and cold, and she could see for kilometers in all directions. The wind was roaring past them, and her robes were flapping with thunderous applause. She felt he ears pop.

Tenchi - _Relax! Spread your arms and legs and let them act like wings_

The voice in her head startled her, until she realized Tenchi was using a mind link (the wind was too loud for conversation). She found breathing difficult, so she just held her breath. She resisted for only a second, before common sense reasserted itself: she was perfectly safe with her great-grandson; her family had all been through this experience in the last few minutes, and had enjoyed themselves immensely; and since the airspace over the Palace was off-limits to commercial aircraft, they were in no danger of a collision. So, she forced herself to relax and follow Tenchi's advice.

It took no time at all to realize that it _was_ like flying. Her smile mirrored Tenchi's and Ryoko's.

Tenchi waited until they were close to the building before embracing her, and they teleported back into the dining room. Her hair was a mess, her robes were in disarray, and her skin was red and cold. But she hadn't felt so light-hearted in ages. "Thank you, Tenchi. That was marvelous!"

"My pleasure, Funaho."

Ryoko cleared her throat. "Excuse me, but aren't you forgetting someone?"

Tenchi turned to her, puzzled.

"What about _my_ turn?"

"Ah." He nodded once, wrapped his arms around Ryoko, and they disappeared.

"Tenchi looked chilled, didn't he?" Mihoshi asked.

"Yeah," Sasami replied. "Maybe he should have taken a jacket. I'll leave the tea on the burner for him. Mother, can you help me pick out my dress?"

"Of course, Sasami." Misaki and Sasami drifted into the common room.

"And I think I'll take a nice hot bath," Mihoshi announced. "And a nap." She left, leaving Funaho and Ayeka watching out a window, while Washu started changing Achika's diaper.

**12:44 pm**

Tenchi and Ryoko reappeared. They lacked the wind-blown look, and she her arms twined about one of his elbows.

"You two were sure gone long enough," Ayeka said. She wasn't smiling.

"I was cold, so we went for a walk in the garden instead."

"Yeah, so just calm down. You get him tonight, after all," Ryoko said. She released his arm and sauntered over to the window where Ayeka was standing. "Unless you'd like to trade weeks?"

"No, I would not." She paused, looking at her hands. "Actually, I have something special planned for tonight after the Ball."

"Oh? Do tell."

Ayeka hesitated, and then took Ryoko's arm as she had taken Tenchi's, steering her for the common room. "Well, do you remember that discussion we had a few weeks ago...?"

Tenchi watched them exit from the chair he had taken. He flinched when he heard Ryoko break into raucous laughter. He groaned silently. Then he became aware of figures flanking him: Washu on his left, Funaho on his right.

"Ok, Tenchi, what gives?" Washu asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tenchi replied.

"The voice lessons. What's your ulterior motive?"

"Am I _that_ obvious?"

"Mmm-hmmm."

"Ok," he sighed. "I figured that if you ladies can learn to blend your voices, you can learn to blend your Power attributes."

"Not bad," Washu said, placing a hand on her husband's shoulder. "You continue to amaze me, Tenchi."

"How very prescient of you," Funaho added.

"Just one more preparation for our eventual meeting with Lady Tokimi."

The room grew suddenly very still, and Washu's grip on his shoulder tightened.

"So, you know about her, huh?" Washu's voice was hushed.

"I know _of_ her, yes."

"How did you find out? I thought you couldn't read my mind?"

"I can't. But you talk in your sleep. Quite a bit, actually." Tenchi grinned as she face-faulted. "I've known for quite a while."

"This warrants further discussion," Funaho said.

"Yeah," Washu agreed. "Let's go down to my lab, Tenchi, and I'll fill you in on the details."

"And I will return to my duties. I will see you both tonight at the Ball."

**01:09 pm**

Washu tucked Achika into her floating bassinet. They were in Washu's lab, around her main console.

Tenchi watched from his hover cushion. He yawned. "Washu, do you have any more of those vitamin supplements? And maybe a stimulant?"

"Sure, just a minute." She adjusted the sound damper in the bassinet, then reached into a hole that appeared in the air beside her. She extracted a hypospray and two cartridges. She attached one of the cylinders to the pistol-shaped instrument, put it to Tenchi's neck, and pulled the trigger. Tenchi felt a mild burn as the contents were injected into his bloodstream. A moment later, the second cartridge was emptied as well. "That should do it."

"Thanks."

The medical supplies went back into the hole, which irised close. "You realize, of course, that when that stimulant starts mixing with all of the tea you've had today, you're liable to be vibrating for a while."

"Oh, great. Any suggestions?"

"Well, as a matter of fact..." A door appeared beside her. She entered, beckoning him to join her. He slid off the cushion and followed her.

The chamber contained nothing but a bed and ceiling lights. "Washu..."

"You'll thank me for this later. Besides, don't I still 'owe you' for this morning's remark?" Her grin was devious, and her eyes sparkled.

Tenchi sighed. He was starting to flush all over, and he felt a rush as the stimulant kicked-in. Washu nodded approvingly and reached for his tunic lacing.

**02:03 pm**

"That's all I can tell you, because that's all I can remember." Washu lay against his ribs, her head on his chest. "Pieces of my memory started surfacing after that discussion with Clay. It's hard to pin Tsunami down to anything, but she did confirm the memories. I let Funaho in on the secret because I think we're going to need her help."

Tenchi idly massaged Washu's shoulders, lost in thought.

"Well?"

"You were a _goddess_?" he asked, voice tinged with disbelief.

"Don't be impressed by the title, my love. It just means a highly evolved life form, not some mythically omnipotent deity."

"And that was your deep, dark secret? The one you didn't want me extracting from your mind?"

"Oh, there are others, though none quite so overwhelming." She rolled over on top of him, so that she could look into his eyes. Her long hair spilled over her shoulders and down her bare backside like a scarlet blanket. "I was afraid you might be scared off if I told you earlier."

Tenchi realized this was one of those rare moments when she had lowered all of her defenses. She hated feeling the least bit vulnerable, and that she was doing so now was significant. "I'm not going anywhere" he said softly. "This is my home."

She sighed, relieved, knowing full well the implications of that statement. "I'm very proud of you, you know."

"I know."

**04.51 pm**

"Again." Kaline Breexandra Sensei paced the practice room slowly. Two sets of partners were dressed in workout clothing and faced one another, each armed with twin training short-swords. Kaline had been retained by the Emperor to continue his and his wife's martial training, and so she arrived every afternoon at the palace, bringing an assortment of practice weapons and her two senior students — son Jeey and nephew Cawan — for an hour of hard work and bruises. When first approached by a royal courier, she had hesitated; after all, there were hundreds of martial arts schools in the capitol city alone, thousands across the planet, tens of thousands across the empire...why would the new Ruler of Humanity choose her? And then the connection between the young man's grandfather and her own father had been made apparent. She had accepted the honor immediately.

Kaline hadn't really known what to expect. Tales of the chivalrous boy-king were legion, even after such a short time in the public spotlight. His grandfather's skill had been legendary, and her own father had been immensely proud of his greatest student. Yosho's athleticism, kinetic intuition, and tactical flair had combined with his clairvoyant Power attributes to mold him into the greatest swordsman of his generation. And after a few lessons with Tenchi Masaki Jurai, it was apparent that the genetics ran true. Even with his own his own Power attributes suppressed, the Emperor was a formidable swordsman.

But His Majesty's technical skills needed some polishing, and in some cases outright correction. As was explained to her, Yosho was still alive on the young man's homeworld, stranded for 700 years on a primitive planet where swords were still made of metal. Yosho had been forced to modify his techniques to employ the local weapons: the circular movements that constituted the core of her family style had become linear, to accommodate the planar blades. The Emperor had spent most of his youth learning the adaptations, and had only recently been introduced to their roots. An interesting situation for a technician such as herself.

The Empress Ryoko, on the other hand, was a much simpler situation. She had never received anything beyond rudimentary training. She had survived by her wits and strength and reflexes and Power attributes. She was a consummate brawler, cunning and relentless...and, thus, her husband's antithesis. She had little patience for learning forms and theories, so Kaline taught her strategies and techniques. Brutal efficiency in a beautiful package.

And little by little the couple was being brought to parity.

"Again." Tenchi initiated the two-weapon pattern, a complicated tracery in the air across his centerline. Jeey received the attack, redirecting each strike harmlessly to the sides. A pause, and then her son initiated and Tenchi countered. The two men flowed together like a well-oiled machine, and Kaline nodded approvingly. Ryoko and Cawan worked the same pattern, only somewhat less successfully. Ryoko was impatient, anticipating her partner's moves, and barely restraining her aggressive nature. Cawan patiently endured another collapsed pattern. Kaline waited until they had stopped, before approaching.

"Your Majesty, you need to slow down the movements. You are too eager."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Ryoko replied irritably.

Kaline sighed silently, reminding herself once again of the mirrored faces of challenge and opportunity. She called for five more repetitions and brought the exercise to a halt. Each participant bowed to their partner and stepped away, weapons lowered to their sides.

"Empress Ryoko, would you, Jeey, and Cawan please step over here? Thank you. Your Majesty, how comfortable do you feel with the solo drills?"

Tenchi shrugged. "I believe I have the movements memorized, Sensei, but I fear they lack precision at this point."

"I would like to make that assessment for myself, if you please. Show me the first pattern." Tenchi nodded, stepped forward and bowed. He brought the weapons into their _en guarde_ posture, and set them weaving in the air in an interlocking figure-eight pattern. His feet were solidly planted, and this propelled his entire upper body like a pumping piston. The training blades whistled softly. "Now the second pattern." The figure-eight sifted from the horizontal plane to the vertical plane, without pause. Kaline studied the details of leg and arm placement, before calling for the third pattern. This was a combination of the first two movements, defining a cloverleaf whose 'petals' hovered just beyond Tenchi's shoulders and hips. After a moment, she stopped him. "Very good, your Majesty. Now, please, the third pattern at full speed and full power."

"'Full power?' You want me to perform the pattern with my Power attributes?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. I want to see the pattern applied with a life-or-death commitment."

"Yes, Sensei." Tenchi assumed the en guarde posture again, only this time his eyes hardened and the three-pronged emblem of Power flared into visibility upon his brow. Without warning, the practice weapons blurred into invisibility, humming audibly in the air before him. His arms appeared as smeared extensions of his shoulders, and his upper body rocked so fast that it vibrated. At their present speed, Tenchi's practice weapons were lethal projectiles. Impressive as the sight was, even more profound was the reaction to his untethered Power envelope. Kaline and her kinsmen were rated as novice level adepts, and normally displayed very minor susceptibility to Power manifestations. But even they recoiled from the Emperor's aura, so powerful was it. Kaline could see her sons wrestling with the fear in their eyes, and she herself felt a compulsion to embrace the Emperor. One look at Empress Ryoko — a Master Class adept — and Kaline could see her titanic struggle for self-control.

"Stop!"

Tenchi froze, and slowly uncoiled from his stance. The heat in his eyes faded, as did the Emblem of Power. Everyone in the room needed several deep breaths to recover.

"I believe that will conclude today's exercises," Kaline said, once she had control of her voice.

**06.39 pm**

"Geez, I hate this." Tenchi tugged at his tight collar. He was dressed in a suit made of a finely-woven, shimmery cloth — but he had to question the mentality that demanded ties for Earth formalwear, and braided collars for Juraian formalwear. He was the Emperor, after all, he should be able to do something about it. He fiddled with his Knight's medallion.

"Quit fidgeting," came the reply in five voices. They all looked at one another at laughed.

Tenchi made an irritated gesture and dropped into one of the common room chairs. His family was gathered around the chamber, helping one another with 'finishing touches.' A matronly security officer sat in one of the other chairs, one eye on the floating bassinet and the other on the remainder of the Royal Family. She wrestled a smile off of her face.

Tenchi considered teleporting one of his books out of his office, and decided against the notion. He had learned that there were times he had better be paying attention to his wives, no matter what they were doing. And this was one of those times. He swallowed his discomfort and forced himself to relax.

They all wore gowns that matched their eyes; but where Ryoko, Mihoshi, and Washu wore strapless dresses, Ayeka's was cut in a style to flatter her pregnant profile, and Sasami's was styled modestly to reflect her age. They were each simply breathless to behold. Tenchi would have been proud to escort any one of them to a Ball, and here he was lucky enough to take them _all_. Sometimes, it really was Good To Be The King.

They were finally at the 'adding accessories' stage: helping each other fasten necklaces and position brooches. "You know, the only jewelry you ladies really need are your wedding rings."

"We'll take your advice under consideration, Beloved," Ayeka replied.

" — Not!" Ryoko added.

Tenchi shrugged.

Mihoshi finished first. "Well? How does this look?"

"Gorgeous," Tenchi said, and meant it. Mihoshi beamed. "Of course, I'm rather biased."

"And you'd better stay that way," Ryoko warned him. "Social functions like this tend to bring out the predators." She swapped glances with her 'sisters,' and they all nodded. They were married to the greatest Power adept in human space, and he inevitably attracted female Power adepts like moths to a flame. They had agreed to share him among themselves, but at that point their generosity hit a brick wall. Tenchi would never be out of their sight.

Not that he objected. Much.

"I believe we are all ready," Ayeka announced. Tenchi stood, unconsciously tugging the wrinkles out of his suit. Washu made one last stop by the bassinet, and exchanged final instructions with the agent.

"Where's Ryo-ohki?" Sasami asked. "Oh, here she comes." The morphanthropic little female entered the room in her bipedal form, washed and combed, wearing gold ribbons and a matching dress. She "Miya"-ed excitedly. "Oh, you look so pretty!" Sasami gave her the kind of hug normally delivered by Misaki, and the adults in the room collectively cringed.

"Since we won't be enjoying your cooking tonight, I do hope the caterers did a good job with the buffet," Mihoshi said to Sasami. A sentiment that was echoed by Ryoko.

"I'm sure they'll do a fine job," Washu answered. "After all, they're the same firm that handled the coronation reception — and they managed to keep the tables stocked in spite of you two." She smiled at Ryoko's glare and Mihoshi's frown.

"Let's go, ladies," Tenchi said, starting for the door.

"Don't be in such haste, Beloved." Ayeka linked her arms around one of his elbows. "After all, they can't start until _you_ get there. And you needn't be particularly punctual for these events."

"Yeah, let 'em sweat a little," Ryoko added, taking his other arm.

Tenchi led his family into the corridor, and started strolling towards the Grand Ballroom.

**07:07 pm**

Funaho and Misaki waited patiently in the private audience chamber just off the Royal Ballroom. They had performed this ritual many times over the years, cooling their heels until their late husband had made his appearance. Tradition demanded that the Emperor be escorted into the ballroom by his consort(s). Only now, they awaited the new Emperor and his family. Their attitude about the whole arrangement was decidedly different than previous occasions: they didn't have to worry that Tenchi would be indulging in 'discreet social maneuvers' like Azusa had; it just wasn't in his character. And anyway, _they_ didn't have to worry about Tenchi at all — that chore belonged to his wives. They could relax and enjoy the festivities.

They chatted amiably, allowing the serv'bots to keep their glasses filled, and watching the guests through the security cameras. There was a minor commotion at the door, and the Royal Family entered. Funaho and Misaki exchanged grins and then bowed to His Majesty.

"Oh, cut it out you two," Tenchi replied. "I ought to be bowing to you."

"That would be counter to protocol, Tenchi," Funaho replied.

"My, you do look handsome tonight," Misaki said. "And your ladies are dazzling!"

"Well, on that last point I will have to agree with you."

"Flattery will get you anywhere you want to go," Ryoko whispered into his ear. Ayeka coughed and rolled her eyes.

"Shall we?" Tenchi gestured towards the door. Frankly, he hated what was about to happen, and wanted to get it over with. And everyone in his family knew it. With a final flurry of self-inspections, they stepped back into the corridor. The concierge saw them approach the doorway, and signaled the security staff, the orchestra, and Everyone Else Who Mattered. They could hear the music inside flutter to a halt and the rumble of conversation dwindle to silence. Tenchi stopped in the doorway, gritting his teeth and waited for the inevitable.

Trumpets blared, the gaily-dressed crowds flowed away from the center aisle, and an amplified voice announced, "His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Sir Tenchi Masaki Jurai, and Family!"

Tenchi reluctantly started forward, Ayeka still clutching his left arm, Ryoko still locked to his right. He heard the others enter behind them. Around them the crowd bowed with his passing, like sports enthusiasts doing the Wave.

"Smile, Beloved, you're supposed to be enjoying yourself!" Ayeka whispered to him. She nodded at the guests on her side of the aisle.

"Yeah, lighten-up, lover! Don't be such a drag!" Ryoko whispered. She was nodding, as well.

"You two are enjoying this 'way too much," he said.

"Deal with it," Ryoko replied. Ayeka gave his arm a gentle squeeze. He heard Sasami say something, and Mihoshi giggled.

The walk seemed to take an hour, although in fact it was just a few minutes. The room was huge, after all, and they were required to walk clear to the dais at the far end. Tenchi forced a smile, and nodded at familiar faces in the crowd. Eventually, they reached the steps and ascended. They turned and faced the room.

Tenchi cleared his throat. "I want to thank you all for coming tonight. It is a real pleasure to see so many honored guests. Please, enjoy the refreshments and entertainment!" He bowed, the crowd returned it, and the orchestra started up. No one moved, however.

"So, which one of us gets to go first?" Washu asked. Tenchi turned to see four expectant faces, and four curious ones. There would be no dancing until the Emperor started, and the Emperor had the risky task of choosing his first dance partner.

Tenchi might have been sweating nervously, if he hadn't already resolved the issue earlier. He extended his hand to Sasami, and smiled. "May I have this dance, Princess?"

Sasami's face broke into a huge grin, a blush rising around it. Her eyes twinkled. "Absolutely, Your Majesty!" Together, they descended the steps and walked well out onto the floor. Behind them, Ayeka and Ryoko growled, Mihoshi sighed, and Washu chortled. Funaho and Misaki chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Ryoko muttered.

"Yes, what is so amusing, Washu?" Ayeka snarled through a forced smile.

"Don't you two get it?" Washu answered. "Our husband is learning diplomacy! Think about it: he has four wives and two Queen Mothers to choose from, so whom does he pick without offending anyone? Answer: none of the above! Pretty slick, if you ask me. And then combine that with this morning's pillow fight..."

"I see your point," Ayeka conceded..

Ryoko nodded in agreement. "But, maybe _we_ should decide who his _next_ partner is going to be."

"Agreed," Ayeka said. She and Ryoko put their heads together and started whispering intently. Mihoshi joined them.

The edge of the crowd started to dissolve into couples, who joined Tenchi and Sasami on the dance floor. Washu looked down at Ryo-ohki. "Shall we go look for some carrots?" The cabbit nodded, and they descended the steps and vanished among the throng.

Two very senior military officials approached the dais and bowed, inviting Funaho and Misaki to dance. Recently widowed, they had become two of the most eligible singles in the empire. They accepted graciously.

Three brave souls approached the dais and invited Tenchi's wives to dance — and were politely refused.

**07:42 pm**

Ayeka and Ryoko stood by the punch bowl, filling cups and nibbling on the appetizers, chatting amiably with the handsome military officers and noblemen that clustered around them. Finally, Ayeka excused them and tugged Ryoko away.

"Thanks, Ayeka. I couldn't think of a polite way to get rid of them. If they're going to flirt, the least they could do is think of something original to say."

"Well, being pregnant has definite advantages. Of course, I really _do_ need to visit the ladies' room."

"Then let's go." They started threading their way through the crowd, repeatedly stopped by well-wishers and gladhanders. "By the way, where's Tenchi?"

"He was dancing with Mihoshi the last time I saw him."

"She's sure looking pretty peaked." Ryoko nodded as a portly man in too-tight formalwear bowed to her.

"The burn-out is starting to manifest. I sympathize with her." Ayeka smiled at two bowing matrons.

"Yeah, me too. Ayeka, aren't you afraid that repeated sex with Tenchi, and each episode of burn-out, will have an affect on your baby?"

"I was concerned at first, but Washu assured me that it will not affect Little Azusa. Achika has shown no complications." She acknowledged a small group of naval officers and their wives. "Ryoko, may I ask you something personal?"

"Sure — I just asked you something personal."

"Have you considered having children of your own?"

Ryoko paused, and Ayeka stopped and turned to face her. "Yeah, I've thought about it. Washu told me that a few minutes in her lab will enable all the right parts. I'm just kinda hesitant, though. I spent so many years enslaved by Kagato, I'm still enjoying my freedom."

"What about Tenchi? Marriage is a binding arrangement — "

"I'm here because I _want_ to be. It's my choice. But a child is a much bigger responsibility, you know?"

"Oh, I know," Ayeka smiled.

"I guess you do," Ryoko grinned. "Or you soon will. I just don't know if I want to be 'chained' again so soon."

Ayeka put her hand on Ryoko's arm. "I understand, Ryoko."

Ryoko was about to respond, when she saw something that distracted her.

Ayeka noticed the look on her face, and turned to follow her gaze. "What is it?"

"I see Mihoshi over talking to Kiyone and what's-his-name…"

"Sir Trinnard."

"Yeah, him. But where's Tenchi?" They both looked around, but could not see their husband. Ryoko made a gesture and one of the security guards appeared beside her.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Where's the Emperor?"

The guard relayed the request through his Comm link. "He's just left the gentlemen's lounge."

"Is he with anyone?"

"Yes, Queen-Mother Misaki and two female guests."

"Thanks," Ryoko said, dismissing him. She shared a look with Ayeka, both nodded, and they moved into the crowd.

**07:51 pm**

Tenchi was chatting amiably when Ayeka and Ryoko found him. With long-practiced ease they slid along his flanks and locked onto his elbows. One quick glance at his startled expression, and then they turned to examine the guests he was talking to. Misaki was standing between an attractive woman her age, and a much more attractive woman their age.

"Here, you are, Darling! We wondered where'd you gotten to," Ryoko spoke to Tenchi without looking at him.

"Yes, Beloved, we were thinking it's about time that you danced with us." Ayeka spared a glance at her mother, who smiled innocently back.

Tenchi recognized the danger signs immediately. He applied his most disarming grin. "Uh, hello, ladies. Misaki was just introducing me to Professor Araciela Gayal and her daughter, Kiyuma, who are both noted voice instructors." The ladies bowed to the Empresses.

Misaki recognized the jealous glint in her daughter's eyes, and saw the tips of Ryoko's fangs peeping out from beneath her upper lip. "Yes, Ladies, don't you remember my offer from this morning?"

Ayeka and Ryoko had been probing both women, with negative results. Which meant that neither woman was a Power adept, and thus no rival. They subtly shook their heads to each other, confirming their analysis, and relaxed. Tenchi felt the air temperature around him drop, and the grips on his arms softened. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Professor," Ayeka said, nodding. "Miss Gayal."

"Nice to meet you," Ryoko added.

"I was just telling them about our old karaoke machine back on Earth," Tenchi said.

"I'm sure we have similar devices here on Jurai," the senior Gayal said. Her voice was rich and well-modulated.

"It must have been a lot of fun," the younger Gayal added. Her voice was deep and throaty.

"Well, I do enjoy listening to my lovely Lorelei sing, but up to now they have all been solos. I think they'd make a wonderful quintet."

"We would be happy to help in any way we can, Your Majesty." Both ladies bowed gracefully.

"Excellent. Then perhaps we should bring everyone together and you can discuss a possible schedule. Ayeka? Ryoko?"

"Sounds good to me," Ryoko replied.

"That would be fine," Ayeka answered.

Tenchi opened mind links to Washu, Mihoshi, and Sasami and requested that they join him.

**08:22 pm**

"Have you found anyone here your own age, Sasami?"

"No, Washu, I haven't. I was kinda hoping there would be, but no one brought their kids along. It's not like Tenchi's coronation reception; there were a lot of kids here then."

Washu and Sasami were sitting in a corner, half-masked by a pillar and a throng of guests. They each put a plate on the table, and watched as Ryo-ohki successfully carried a plate of sliced carrots from the buffet line. Their nearest neighbors recognized them and did their utmost to provide some privacy.

"Well, if it's any consolation, there's no one here my age, either." Washu's smile was both ironic and gentle.

Sasami giggled. "Is there _anyone_ your age left anywhere in the empire?"

"Believe it or not, there are few. But none of them are here tonight."

"Washu, don't you get bored by stuff like this? I was hoping to do more dancing, but Tenchi is being passed around by the others, and no one else will ask me."

"Well, all I can suggest is that you be patient. In a few years, you will be shouldering your way onto Tenchi's dance card, and some of those handsome young men will be wishing you'd dance with them."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right," Washu replied.

"You still haven't answered my question, though."

"I have mixed feelings about it, Sasami. I was alone for a long time, and did my very best to avoid activities like this. But the problem with being alone is that you have no connections, no sense of linkage to anyone or anything. I have a family now, and I would spare any of you that burden of isolation." Washu selected an appetizer from her plate. "Old habits are hard to break, though, so I compromise: I tag along and I sit in the corners until I feel comfortable enough to participate."

"Or you get coerced," said Tenchi. He appeared behind Washu, placing his hands on her shoulders. "It's time for you to dance with me, Little Washu."

Washu flinched at the pet name, but covered her husband's hands with her own. "Alright, Dear. Just for you." She rose from her seat and took his proffered arm.

"And you get the next one, Sasami," Tenchi promised.

Ryoko dropped into Washu's vacant chair. "Hey, Kiddo, how's the food?"

Sasami shrugged. "Ok, I guess."

Ryoko started grazing from Washu's plate. "Nah, you do a lot better job than this stuff." She studied the youngster, finally asking, "What's wrong?"

"I'm bored. There's nothing to do, and no one to do it with."

"Well, I think you're looking at this from the wrong angle," Ryoko said between bites. "You have to learn how to people-watch. It's one of my favorite pastimes."

"Huh?"

"Take a look around and tell me what you see."

Sasami took a slow scan of the surrounding tables, and started to describe some of the gowns she saw.

"No, no, I meant look at the people. The fat ones, the skinny ones, the way they stand, the way they move. That can tell you a lot about them. For instance, see that guy with the red cummerbund?"

"Yeah..."

"Describe him for me."

"Ok. He's not real tall...kinda fat...his hair looks funny...that's about it."

"Fair enough. Now here's what I see: he's not real tall, but his shoulders are stooped, so he'd look taller if his posture was better. He doesn't get enough exercise or he wouldn't have such a big paunch. From his complexion, I'd guess his diet is pretty bad, even if he's shoveling a lot of food into his system. He has a lot of worry lines around his eyes, and his hands are shaking a bit. Either that's a toupee, or the growth stimulants aren't working correctly. His clothes don't fit right, and he's definitely not comfortable in them. He seems to be glancing around a lot, like he's nervous. I figure he has a high-stress job, and it eats most of waking time. He's staying real close to the plump woman in the pink dress, so I'd bet that his wife. She's wearing some pretty expensive jewels, so she probably has expensive tastes, and he has to work some pretty long hours to pay for her life style. There doesn't seem to be a lot of feeling between them, so she probably dragged him here, and he'd rather be back at work. She needs him or she'd dump him. Not a happy family at all."

"Wow, Ryoko, that's pretty good."

Ryoko shrugged. "It's just a matter of looking at all the pieces and putting them together. It's not magic, and it's not a Power attribute. Heck, we do stuff like this for Lady Funaho all the time. You can learn to do it, too. Now take that couple over there..."

**08:53 pm**

Ayeka was returning from the ladies' room, looking for her husband. As usual, he wasn't hard to find. He was standing at the center of a small group of military personnel and their spouses, and they were all listening to Ryoko regale them with one of her Kagato stories. Even though the Empire was usually the butt of her tales, they were generally entertaining — and informative. Ryoko was extremely popular at the admiralty. But what filled Ayeka with pride was the high regard Tenchi was held in, by everyone, wherever he went. Charismatic, chivalrous, conscientious, compassionate, and a host of other "c" words. And when she recalled some of the candidates her late father had picked for her, she shuddered with revulsion.

"Empress Ayeka?" She turned to find herself looking at tall, broad-shouldered young man in a crisp naval uniform. He was square-jawed and extremely handsome, and his voice was deep and suave. "Would you do me the honor of the next dance?"

"No thank you, Lieutenant. My evening is spoken for." She turned her back on him and walked away. She had been asked to dance several times by similarly dashing young officers and pampered sons of the Peerage, but she had turned them all down cold. She would rather sit in a chair and wait for her turn with the Best Man In The Room than be out kicking her heels and flirting with the bachelors. The fact that neither Mihoshi, Ryoko, nor Washu had been seen dancing with anyone but Tenchi told her she shared a common opinion.

A dark thought intruded into her mind: her late father would have considered this gathering as a target-rich environment, and he would have spent a great deal of time recruiting 'partners' for his scandalous assignations. Her mother and half-mother never discussed any of Azusa's infamous trysts with her, but she had discovered many of the sordid details anyway. She marveled at their patience and perseverance. She had sworn that she would never permit even the appearance of such an activity, let alone encourage it. The galaxy was full of handsome young men, but there was only one Tenchi, and that was enough for her.

"Hey, Ayeka."

Mihoshi's voice filtered to her through the background hum. It sounded strained. Ayeka paused, turning slowly, until she located Mihoshi, Kiyone, and Sir Trinnard. They were sitting at a table, talking to several men and women wearing the same order of knighthood that Tenchi wore. She approached the table, and everyone but Mihoshi stood and bowed. Mihoshi was nursing a glass as she slumped over the table, and the fatigue on her face was obvious.

"What is she drinking?" Ayeka quietly asked Kiyone.

"Punch," Kiyone whispered. "Is burn-out always this bad?"

"Yes," Ayeka nodded. "However, we seldom have public obligations to attend to during the initial phase. This is simply a case of poor timing. She should go to her suite and retire for the evening."

"I heard that, and I'm not leaving until Tenchi does," Mihoshi said.

Sir Trinnard leaned over and tapped Ayeka on the shoulder. "Maybe if I went and fetched His Majesty...?"

"Excellent idea. Please do so." The knight vanished into the crowd without another word. "Now, Mihoshi, let's be reasonable about this. I know what you're experiencing right now, and there can't be any pleasure in it."

"No, there isn't. But it's so _lonely_ upstairs. Everyone is down here, dancing and laughing and — "

" — making repeated trips to the ladies' room. It's not as exhilarating as you may think. For instance, I will probably retire early myself, and I know Sasami will be going to bed soon."

"Having a little trouble here?" Washu asked.

"Burn-out," Ayeka whispered. Washu nodded sympathetically.

"I'm not going without Tenchi," Mihoshi repeated.

"How about if I go upstairs with you?" Washu offered. "I'm about done here anyway."

"Well..."

Everyone around the table snapped to attention and bowed. "What's going on?" Tenchi asked.

"Burn-out," Ayeka whispered. "She insists that she won't leave until you do."

"My room is so empty..." Mihoshi said.

Tenchi got down on one knee and looked into Mihoshi's eyes. "If you're asleep, you won't notice it. And what if I tuck you in?"

"Promise? And you'll stay until I fall asleep?"

"I promise," Tenchi replied.

That's all it took. Mihoshi's arms wrapped around Tenchi's neck and she put her head on his shoulder. Tenchi didn't even bother to stand; they just vanished.

There was a stunned silence by those left standing around the table. The knights had heard of Tenchi's Power attributes, but had not seen any of them. And his wives ruminated quietly on the fact that next time it might be one of them in a similar situation.

"I think I need a drink," Ryoko said.

"Me, too," Washu added.

"Me, too," Ayeka said. The other two looked at her. "I know, I know, no alcohol during my pregnancy. A tall glass of punch, then."

"Can you describe burn-out to me again?" Kiyone asked.

**09:07 pm**

Tenchi pulled the covers up to Mihoshi's chin, making sure that her shoulders were covered. Then he sat on the bed next to her. He brushed her golden hair away from her face, and she studied him through heavy-lidded eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. If anyone should apologize, it's me. I'm the one causing this condition — "

"It's ok, Tenchi. Washu says that we are slowly building an immunity to your Power envelope, and that this will go away in a couple of years."

"'A couple of years,'" Tenchi echoed dejectedly.

"Yes, so we just have to be patient. Like everything involving you, we have to be flexible." She giggled around a yawn. "Of course, it didn't help matters any that I started my period this afternoon..."

Tenchi just shook his head. "Poor Mihoshi." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Go to sleep."

"I love you," she said, closing her eyes.

"I love you, too."

He watched her as her breathing settled into a slow, deep rhythm, and then leaned forward to retrieve a framed photograph from the nightstand. It was their wedding picture, with a radiant Mihoshi standing proudly next to her Juraian prince. He had to admit, she was the most beautiful woman on Seniwa that day. She was still beautiful.

He returned the photo, listened to Mihoshi snoring for a moment, and then quietly eased himself off the bed and out the door.

Funaho's matronly security agent was sitting next to the bassinet, reading a book. She started to rise but Tenchi waved her back into her seat. "You don't seem surprised to see me here."

She tapped the small comlink in her ear. "Empress Ryoko informed us you were bringing Empress Mihoshi back to this wing."

Tenchi chuckled at his wife's efficiency. He walked over to the bassinet and peered inside, watching Achika making faces in her sleep. She looked so much like her mother, it took his breath away. He backed away quietly.

"You can inform your associates that I am returning to the ballroom now," he said, and waited for her acknowledgement before closing the door behind him. He paused in the corridor to tug out his wrinkles and straighten his medallion, and then headed back towards the center of the building.

**09:16 pm**

"You looked tired, Honey," Misaki said.

Sasami nodded. "Yeah, this wasn't as much fun as I thought it was going to be." She sat in the chair next to her mother, arms crossed and chin-down. Ryo-ohki maneuvered into the chair next to her.

"Maybe you should head on off to bed."

"Yeah, or at least go play some video games." She was about to say something else when she noticed a pair of dress shoes standing in front of her mother's. She followed the legs up to the waist, to the shoulders, and to a distinguished-looking face at the summit. The face belonged to a very-well dressed merchant, rather jolly-looking, and with an ample waistline. Sasami tried to read the man the way Ryoko had taught her, but the only result she got back was Lots-O-Money.

The intruder cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Your Majesty, but I was hoping that you would honor me by accepting an invitation to dance?"

Misaki hesitated: she wanted to comfort her daughter, but she also wanted to dance. "Go ahead, Mother, I don't mind."

"Are you sure, Sasami?"

Sasami nodded, her long azure ponytails swinging in synchrony. Misaki stood and allowed the merchant to lead her away, both chattering politely. "Come on, Ryo-ohki. Let's go find the others."

She hadn't taken a dozen paces when she nearly bumped into Washu. Washu was declining yet another invitation to dance, and was frankly losing her patience with the whole process. "Oh, there you are. I'm leaving, and thought I'd like some company. You two want to go back to our wing and see what kind of snacks we can make? There might be some decent video worth watching."

"You don't have to leave on my account, Washu." She looked over at Ryo-ohki, wondering if there wasn't some private conversation going on between the cabbit and her creator.

"I'm not. I'm getting tired, I want to check on Achika, and if I don't leave soon I'm liable to do something distracting, like lowering the friction level of this dance floor to zero."

"What would that do?"

"Make it impossible to stand on, let alone dance on. You'd need ice skates to get around."

Sasami tried to imagine the hundreds of adults in all their finery falling on their fannies, and smiled. "It sounds funny."

"Well, it would be funny until the lawsuits started arriving. I think we'd better go before my darker nature gets the better of me."

"Ok," she took Ryo-ohki's hand, and accompanied Washu towards the door. One last uniform tried to intercept them, but Washu glared at him before he could open his mouth. He slunk away.

**09:21 pm**

Washu, Sasami and Ryo-ohki were waiting for the elevator door to open, when Tenchi stepped out. They smiled at him, he sighed in return. "Calling it quits?"

"Yes, I've had my fill of frivolity for tonight. Sasami is of like mind. And since when do you need to take the elevator anywhere?"

"Since the security staff is monitoring my movements, so that my wives can keep track of me." He gestured down the corridor, where two low-profile figures were clearly watching them. "Well, I envy you the peace and quiet of our wing. I suspect it'll be a couple of hours before I can call it a night."

"Don't be so sure," Washu replied. "I think Ayeka's tolerance has just about peaked. And Ryoko is showing some warning signs; you may want to get her back upstairs before she starts a brawl."

"Ok, where are they now?"

"When I left them, they were still schmoozing with Kiyone and Sir Trinnard at that table full of knights. It's about the safest spot in the room — none of the riff-raff were able to get near us. You know, why is it that all the studs want to dance with your wives?"

"I don't know, Washu. I'm new around here. Maybe they're trying to curry favor, or maybe it's the custom."

"It's a tradition my father started," Sasami said. "He said he wanted us to mingle with as many people as possible. He never danced with the same woman twice, and he insisted that Mother and Funaho do the same. I guess everyone here expected the tradition to continue."

"Well, times change," Tenchi growled. He had been watching his wives fending off a bevy of women (young and old) attempting to dance with him. If there hadn't been so many it might have been funny. It was no longer humorous.

**09:27 pm**

"There you are!" Ryoko announced. She and Ayeka were suddenly the only ones sitting at the table — everyone else had stood to bow.

Tenchi nodded and dragged a chair over to sit between his wives. "How are you two doing?"

"I'm getting very fatigued," Ayeka replied.

"And I'm getting a headache. The music sucks, there's no sake, and I'm getting really tired of being pestered. Fortunately, these folks," Ryoko indicated the knights standing and sitting around the table, "were gracious enough to fend off all the locals."

Tenchi thanked the smiling men and women around them. "It was our pleasure, Your Majesty," the ranking senior present replied. "We are here to serve the Royal Family in whatever capacity is required."

"I vote we bail," Ryoko said. "I saw Washu and Sasami leave, and I'll bet there'll be something cooking upstairs pretty damn quick."

"I have to agree with Ryoko," Ayeka added. "Mother and Funaho appear to be enjoying themselves, so they will stay for a while. There is no pressing reason for us to remain."

"Then it's unanimous," Tenchi said.

**10:14 pm**

Tenchi stood in his office doorway, watching his family. Everyone sat around the common room in their pajamas and bathrobes. Washu nursed Achika, Ryoko snored softly from the other sofa, and Sasami was playing video games. "I guess we're not a real exciting bunch, are we?" Tenchi asked.

"I guess not," Washu replied. "Where's Ayeka?"

"Getting ready for bed. I think I'll call it a night, too." He yawned, rubbing his eyes. "It's been a long day."

"Well, get a good night's sleep, then," Washu replied.

Tenchi kissed her and Achika, ruffled Sasami's hair, and blew a kiss at Ryoko. He entered Ayeka's room, closing the door quietly behind him. He expected to see Ayeka sitting at her vanity, combing her long hair. What he saw left him gaping open-mouthed.

Ayeka was standing in the middle of the room, wearing nothing but black riding boots and a sombrero. She held a riding crop in one hand, which she pointed at Tenchi. "You will remove your clothing immediately."

"Uh, sure, Ayeka," Tenchi stammered.

"And call me 'Empress!'"

Tenchi groaned, wishing he'd asked Washu for another stimulant. It was going to be a long night. 

**################# Author's Notes ##################**

There is a really nifty music video available at that uses the song "Mamboleo" by Elissa. The video is called "Odorikuruu", and is well worth downloading and watching. I should warn you, though: after you watch it a few times, you'll get hooked.

The title of this story comes from the Japanese verb to dance or jump for joy.

The characters of Tenchi Muyo were created by Masaki Kajashima, and brought to North America by Pioneer LDC. This story, while incorporating names and situations held under copyright by others, is copyright 2002 by Jeffery L. Harris.

This story comes entirely from my imagination, and is not, nor intended to be, canon. Please do not send the legions of lawyers after me...it's not worth their time, or mine.

Any questions or comments should be directed to:

Jeffery L Harris  
Subject: "Koodori"


	7. EPISODE 6  The Chains Of Our Commitments

**PROLOGUE**

_I close my eyes  
Only for a moment and the moment's gone.  
All my dreams pass before my eyes a curiosity.  
Dust in the wind.  
All they are is dust in the wind. _

_Same old song  
Just a drop of water in an endless sea.  
All we do crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see.  
Dust in the wind.  
All we are is dust in the wind. _

_Don't hang on  
Nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky.  
It slips away and all your money won't another minute buy.  
Dust in the wind.  
All we are is dust in the wind._

_Dust in the wind.  
Everything is dust in the wind._

Title — "Dust In The Wind"  
Artist — Kansas  
Music and lyrics — Kerry Livgren

She sat in her chambers, alone. The room was dark and brooding, dimly lit by a few computer monitors. The largest display processed a file that was many thousands of years old. The file contained a collection of corresponding names and faces. Men...women...children...even a few non-human sapients...innocent victims of indiscriminate violence. She had a duty to remember each and every one of them.

And to avenge them all.

An inexpiable burden of obligation written in shattered flesh and spilled blood.

She had known each of them individually, some extremely well; but even the best of memories fade with time unless refreshed often. So, to maintain the fine edge on her relentless determination, she reviewed this file frequently.

The burden of obligation had not grown any lighter over the passing centuries. In fact, she could never repay the debt completely. The victims were beyond caring, dead and buried millennia past. And their malefactors had long since gone to the grave — but their descendants still lived. As she bore her burden across the ages, her adversaries bore their guilt across the generations. The confrontation would continue until one side or the other was completely eliminated.

But, the price paid for the moral high ground was steep indeed: she no longer lived, she merely existed. Everyone that she had ever cared for, everything that she had ever cared about, was lost to her. A poor trade, of quantity for quality; an extended lifespan chained to a single purpose.

Yet, she persevered across the years. She had extracted much pain to pay for her own.

In all honesty, though, she was so very tired...

**ACT 1**

_A time to be reapin', a time to be sowin'.  
The green leaves of summer are callin' me home._  
'_Twas so good to be young then, in the season of plenty,  
When the catfish were jumpin' as high as the sky._

_A time just for plantin', a time just for ploughin'.  
A time to be courtin' a girl of your own._  
'_Twas so good to be young then, to be close to the earth,  
And to stand by your wife at the moment of birth._

_A time to be livin', a time to be laughin'  
A time to be dreamin' a dream of your own_  
_It was good to be young then with the sweet smell of apples_  
_And the owl in the pine tree a-winkin' his eye_

_A time to be reapin', a time to be sowin'.  
A time just for livin', a place for to die._  
'_Twas so good to be young then, to be close to the earth,  
Now the green leaves of summer are callin' me home._

Title — "The Green Leaves Of Summer"  
Music by — Dimitri Tiomkin  
Lyrics by — Paul Francis Webster  
From the Film — The Alamo, 1960

Ryoko woke quietly, soundlessly, as was her habit. She didn't open her eyes, preferring instead to let her other senses scan her immediate environment and build a preliminary description.

She cast wide and recognized the sounds of her own suite: the breeze nudging the curtains, the smell of the carpets, and the ticking of the clock on the mantle. The air was still, and the birds chirped distantly in the trees. The sun had not yet risen.

She focused closer: the subtle creaking of the bed frame, the gentle rustle of bed sheets, and the rhythmic breathing of the man beside her.

His scent was unmistakable; she opened her eyes and turned her head, studying her husband's face in the dim light from the window. She had watched that face grow from an infant to an emperor, and knew every crease and curve of it. She could (and had!) watch it by the hour, observing the subtle muscular twinges and broad shifts that mirrored the mind behind it. She had tasted the skin and felt its texture, and could reconstruct it accurately in her own mind. The corner of her lip curled in a mischievous grin, seeing that a few strands of his long hair had spilled across his cheek and were dancing gently with his soft snoring. She carefully lifted the covers and slid over, so that her bare backside snuggled up against his equally bare belly. She gently lifted his arm and draped it over her ribs. Then she tucked her long cyan hair down and under her head so that it wouldn't bury his nose, and was rewarded with his exhalations caressing the back of her neck. She purred contentedly.

Ryoko dozed for a time, aware of the increasing level of light from the window, aware of the increasing sounds of activity from beyond the door. And so she was not surprised when it opened slowly, framing two backlit figures. She recognized them by their smells, by their mannerisms, by the color of their hair and the tilt of their heads: her mother and her closest friend, Washu and Ayeka, two of Tenchi's other wives.

She rose slowly on one arm, and indicated that she was aware of their presence. Each was leaning forward, reaching down to assist a toddler walk into the room. Ryoko chuckled at the familiar silhouettes: Washu's daughter Achika and Ayeka's son Azusa. Tenchi's children...Tenchi's _heirs_ (a significant fact when one considered that he ruled an empire that stretched the length of a galactic arm, encompassing tens of thousands of star systems, hundreds of occupied planets, and trillions of humans and non-human sentients). Ryoko beckoned them into the room, grinning from ear-to-ear.

With a mere thought, she phased through the bedcovers and floated upwards, oblivious to their slow-motion collapse. Another gesture found her swathed in her favorite housecoat, and she drifted over to settle on the floor beside the bed. She spread her arms, and Achika came running into her embrace. A moment later Ayeka escorted Azusa within reach, and Ryoko drew him into a hug.

"Shall we wake up your daddy?" Ryoko whispered. The children nodded vigorously, wide-eyed and giggling. "Ok, here we go!" She hovered silently, legs folded tailor-fashion, the children on her lap. She set them on the bed beside her sleeping husband, prodding them forward. Each looked to their mother, who encouraged silently from the doorway. With one gleeful shout, they pounced on Tenchi.

It was immediately apparent that he was neither asleep nor surprised — he tucked into a ball beneath the covers, roaring in mock alarm, hiding from the little ones. They weren't fooled, either — and Ryoko yanked the covers half-off to assist their ambush.

During the giggling, laughing, and general horseplay, Ryoko slipped out the door with Washu and Ayeka, all chuckling merrily.

"I must say, that is one tradition well worth fostering," Ayeka said. She led them through the common area and into the dining room, where Mihoshi was setting the table. Sasami could be heard humming from the kitchen, amidst the clatter of pans and utensils. Mihoshi giggled at the sounds from Ryoko's open suite door, and returned to the Kitchen.

"I have to agree," Washu replied. Ryoko nodded.

All four of Tenchi's wives, and his 12-year-old betrothed, were soon sitting around the table enjoying a peaceful breakfast. The sounds of domestic disturbance drifting through the common room brought smiles to all their faces.

"Should we rescue him?" Sasami asked after a while. She gestured towards his seat, where his breakfast was cooling.

"Nah, he can take care of himself," Ryoko replied. She leaned back in her chair, hands cradling a cup of tea, pondering. She glanced over at Mihoshi, whose posture mirrored her own. "Well?"

"I've been giving it careful consideration," Mihoshi replied slowly.

"You've been giving _what_ careful consideration?" Washu asked.

"Children," Mihoshi answered. "On our last mission, Ryoko and I discussed it quite a bit." She paused, smiling at an outburst.

"Maybe it is time," Ryoko added. She, too, smiled, at the outburst.

"What about your career?" Ayeka asked. "After all, you're on the fast track at the Galaxy Police," she said to Mihoshi.

"Well, that is the down side," Mihoshi answered. "If Tenchi and I have a baby, I think my career would be put on hold for awhile. Maybe permanently."

"Is that so bad?"

"Nope," Mihoshi replied. "The more I think about it, the less important the career seems."

"And I never wanted to be anything more than Tenchi's bodyguard," Ryoko said. "Even with a baby, I can still do that to some extent."

"I sympathize with you ladies," Washu said. Achika had been born around the time she and Tenchi celebrated their first anniversary. She had waited a long time for the right man — and hadn't wanted to wait a minute longer after she'd found him. "I've even given thought to having another one."

Everyone else stared at her, jaws dropping.

Sasami shook her head. "Must be something in the water..."

##########

Kiyone dropped onto the sofa and put her feet on the coffee table. She looked over at Mihoshi, who had sprawled into one of the chairs. For once, the common room was quiet. Everyone else was absent.

"So, Mihoshi, what is it you wanted to tell me?"

"I've decided to have a baby."

"Wow. What does Tenchi think about that?"

"I haven't discussed it with him yet."

"Shouldn't you?"

"Eventually. I wanted to make sure that's what I really wanted before I raised the subject."

"So, _is_ that what you really want?"

Mihoshi nodded slowly. "Yes. I'm sure. I want a baby."

Kiyone grinned. "Then go for it!"

"Still, I'm worried that I might have to give up my career at the Galaxy Police."

"There's more to life than the Galaxy Police," Kiyone replied. She had quit several months previously, accepting Funaho's offer to join her security service. She hadn't regretted a single moment of it. "And there's no telling what the future will bring. After your kids are old enough to be in school, you may find other interests. Besides, you don't _have_ to quit the GP — heck, you've already got a cushy desk job, it's Funaho that sends you galloping around the empire — so what difference is a little maternity leave going to make?"

"I know..."

"Relax, Mihoshi. Don't worry about something that may never be a problem anyway."

"I guess you're right." She brightened visibly. "And what about you? Have you and Trinnard set a date yet?" Mihoshi was referring to Kiyone's nearly-constant companion, Sir Trinnard Qualston. He was a member of the same order as Tenchi, and the two had met at Tenchi's coronation.

"No, we haven't set a date yet. We haven't even discussed marriage."

"Yeah, right," Mihoshi giggled.

Kiyone blushed.

##########

"Good morning, Ladies," Funaho said. She entered Washu's lab through the dedicated portal from the common room. Her long robes rustled softly as she walked, creating very little disturbance. She held her head regally, as befitted a former empress, and kept her face expressionless, as befitted the Director of Imperial Security. Ryoko was sitting on a biobed, looking over Washu's shoulder. They were watching the display drifting above Washu's spectral keyboard. "Am I interrupting something?"

Washu waved her great-grandmother-in-law towards a floating cushion. "Not at all, Lady Funaho. In fact, we're just finishing." She grinned at Ryoko, who grinned back. "There you go, Ryoko. Everything is enabled."

"Thanks, Mom," Ryoko replied, giving her a hug.

Funaho watched the exchange with open curiosity, but politely remained silent. Washu looked over at her and laughed. "At Ryoko's request, I've just removed all the blocks interrupting her normal fertility cycle. And unless I miscalculate — "

"An unlikely occurrence," Funaho interrupted sardonically.

" — You should have a new great-great-grandchild sometime next year." Washu looked at Ryoko, who was beaming.

"I think Mihoshi is taking similar steps," Ryoko said. "It's going to get rather crowded around this wing of the Palace."

Funaho sighed. "I guess I will be interviewing replacement investigators in the near future. It wouldn't do to send two of my best operatives into the field while pregnant." She pursed her lips reflectively, and then smiled. "But that is a small price to pay to see our family grow. Congratulations, my dear."

Ryoko's smile was dazzling. "Thank you, Lady Funaho."

"I can see I won't be getting much sleep for a while," Tenchi's voice echoed from the portal. He strolled over to the biobed, his face wreathed with a wry smile.

"You can count on it, Sweetie," Ryoko replied. She hopped down and looped her arms around one of his elbows.

"So, Lady Funaho, what brings you down to my lab?"

"I was looking for Ryoko," Funaho replied. "Tenchi said she was down here."

Washu was about to reply, when she noticed her screen flickering. "What the hell...?" Her fingers danced across the keyboard, sending inquiries into the system. Suddenly, an image appeared on the monitor: an aged woman with silver hair and golden eyes, dressed in black robes, and supporting herself with a cane. Washu and Ryoko gasped in unison.

"Well, well, well, what a pleasant surprise," the figure said.

"Naja Akara!" Ryoko spat.

"How did you break into my network?" Washu asked. "And what do you want?"

"How I broke into your network is my secret," Naja replied. "As to what I want: I was summoned."

"Obscure as always," Washu said disgustedly.

"Allow me to enlighten you, old friend. My son was aware of the blocks you had placed in Ryoko's reproductive system; as a precaution, he installed a nanotech psuedospace transceiver to notify him if anyone ever tampered with those blocks. Since I inherited Kagato's equipment, I received the warning message. It wasn't hard to figure out who set off the alarm. I must say, Washu, that was a surprisingly maternal gesture on your part."

Washu's expression was unreadable. Inwardly, she was wondering how her earlier scans had missed the transmitter.

Naja squinted at the screen, and smiled in delight. "My, the whole Imperial family is present!"

"So you're Naja Akara," Funaho said. "Your exploits are legendary, if unsavory."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I'm flattered."

"Just why do you hold such a grudge against the House of Jurai?"

"It's a long and depressing story, Your Majesty. I'll try to remember to relate it to you before I kill you."

Funaho's only reaction was a raised eyebrow. "Such bravado. You'll pardon me if I don't get too distraught by your threat."

"Not at all, Your Majesty. I'm sure you've received many threats in your life. That will make the success of mine all the sweeter."

"Not if I get my hands on you first," Ryoko snarled.

"Such pretty posturing, Ryoko, dear. My son was a fool for not grooming your feminine qualities. But I'm sure I can rectify the situation — or perhaps I will simply abduct and educate your baby!" Naja's smile was pure venom. Ryoko roared her defiance.

"Settle down, Ryoko," Washu commanded. "Really, Naja, baiting the children is beneath you."

"True, but highly amusing." Naja cocked her head in puzzlement. "Has the Emperor nothing to say?"

Tenchi had been standing quietly beside Ryoko, eyes lidded and lips compressed. His face slowly shifted into an expression of triumph. "Sorry for my rudeness, Naja. I was a bit busy."

"Busy? Doing what?"

"Mind-linking with you. Tell me, don't you find it cold on Fenris IV, now that the glaciers are moving towards your compound?"

Naja gasped, her malicious smile fading from her face. "You're bluffing."

Washu and Funaho both turned to stare at Tenchi, while Ryoko continued to glower at the screen.

"Am I?" The Emblem of Power blinked into visibility on his forehead, and his brows twisted in concentration. Naja screamed and staggered, clutching her head. "I have your signature now," Tenchi tapped his temple. "If you come within ten light years of Jurai, I will know it. I can't teleport that far — yet — but I will soon enough. And when that happens, you had better be very careful: I don't take threats to my family lightly."

Naja's pale face twisted in a rictus of hate and fear, and she cut the connection. The monitor went blank. Washu and Funaho turned on Tenchi, their faced alight with amazement.

"You really mind-linked with her?" Washu asked. "Fenris IV is 17 light years away!"

"Yes, barely. It was quite a strain."

"Is she truly on Fenris IV?" Funaho asked.

"Yes, she has some kind of retreat on the largest northern continent, along the western edge. But I doubt if she'll stay there for long."

"Maybe she'll delay her departure long enough," Funaho replied. She withdrew a portable communicator from a pocket in her gown and spoke into it in low tones. A strike team would be visiting Fenris IV in a matter of hours.

"Just how far can you reach now?" Washu asked.

"Well, at least 17 light years," Tenchi grinned. "As for teleporting, I can't manage more than a few kilometers. But she doesn't know that."

"What did you do to her?" Ryoko asked.

Tenchi placed a hand on his wife's cheek. "What is the difference between a caress and a slap? The same way I touch your mind, I touched hers — but a lot rougher. She will think long and hard about threatening our family again."

Ryoko smirked.

Washu frowned.

"She will not relinquish this vendetta of hers," Funaho said. "If anything, it has escalated since you attacked her personally."

"I agree," Washu said. "She can't come and do it herself, so she'll be forced to send surrogates. And assassins are plentiful."

"Let 'em come!" Ryoko declared. "We'll deal with 'em."

"It won't be that easy, Ryoko," Washu said somberly.

##########

It might have been technically called a family conference; but when the Emperor summons his family for an immediate discussion (an extremely rare thing for Tenchi to do) it assumes the highest priority.

Tenchi stood at the dining room window, hands clasped behind his back, watching the clouds drift overhead. He waited until all of his wives, his betrothed, and the two former empresses had taken seats at the table. Most were pleasantly surprised when Kiyone and Trinnard arrived, but extra chairs were fetched for them. Tea cups were soon distributed, a pot was passed around, and gradually the chitchat died entirely. They all looked at him expectantly.

"Thank you all for coming," he said simply. "I realize you have very busy schedules. I hope this won't take long. We are here to discuss Naja Akara, and the threat she poses to us." There was some grumbling from around the table, but not directed at him — the name elicited negative reactions. "After discussions with Funaho and Washu, I feel that we can no longer afford the luxury of ignoring her. She must be dealt with promptly."

"Excuse me, Your Majesty, but who is she and why is she considered so dangerous?" Trinnard asked.

"Washu, can you provide some of the background details?"

Washu nodded. "She was a classmate of mine at the Juraian Royal Space Academy a long time ago...sometimes my best friend, sometimes my staunchest rival. She is _extremely_ competent, disciplined, and relentless. She disappeared for a while, after pirates raided her research station on K1190. After she resurfaced, she had herself cloned with a male child. You may have heard of him: Kagato, one of the most notorious criminals of the last few millennia. Naja was the one who persuaded me to accept him as one of my graduate students...a decision I have sincerely regretted."

Trinnard looked at Tenchi, eyebrows raised. "Isn't that the man you dueled with?"

"Yes."

"She is capable of matching my skills and abilities. In many ways, fighting her is going to be like fighting me." Washu's words reverberated into silence, as each person considered the ramifications.

"She's that dangerous?" Ayeka asked. Washu nodded.

"Kiyone, what did you find on Fenris IV?" Tenchi asked.

"By the time we got there and identified her base, it was nothing more than a smoking crater. My team was pretty thorough about examining the rubble, as well as the records of everyone who had gone offworld in the preceding weeks. We found nothing."

"Not surprising," Funaho added. "She's very thorough, too. We nearly caught her once, about three hundred years ago. We brought a psychometrist and a clairvoyant into one of her installations, and with their help we were able to deduce her location. She escaped, and then had both adepts murdered to prevent any further occurrences. Since then, she leaves no evidence behind her larger than a few molecules."

"No loose ends, just like her son," Ryoko muttered. "I can't even imagine how you could have been friends with her," she said to Washu.

"She was a different person back then," Washu replied, "and so was I." Tenchi stepped behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. She covered them with her own, drawing comfort from them.

"Did you find the leak in your network?" Funaho asked.

"Yes, and a devious little tweak it was. God alone knows how long she's been hacking into my system. I have to assume it was not the only one."

"So we lack secure communications?" Misaki asked.

"There is only one really secure method available," Washu replied. She looked up meaningfully at her husband, as did nearly everyone else.

"I'm lost again," Trinnard sighed.

"Tenchi has mind links with all of us," Mihoshi explained. "They can't be jammed or tapped."

"With _all_ of you?" He looked over at Kiyone.

She nodded. "It was very useful during the K'vimm Incursion."

"Ah," he replied. "If I may ask, Sire, just why am _I_ here today?"

"When we locate Naja, I will need assistance to deal with any associates she may have present. I would like you to lead a small group of trusted comrades to run interference, while I confront her alone."

"Like hell you will!" Ryoko exclaimed angrily.

"Is there anyone else here capable of defeating her?" Tenchi asked quietly.

"_We_ handled her before, in New York. Remember?"

"_I_ handled her, Ryoko. I caught her by surprise, after she had imprisoned you and Ayeka. She will not be caught so easily again. And under duress she will simply escape through one of her dimensional doorways. No, she must be lured away from her lair."

"I'm going with you, I said."

"No, Ryoko, you are not."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Because you are going to be the bait that brings her to us."

Ryoko simmered quietly, mulling that idea over.

"Once we find her, we will send you and Kiyone and Mihoshi on one of your 'missions' to a nearby naval installation. No doubt Naja will discover it almost immediately. I will take Trinnard and his friends to the naval base early and wait for her arrival."

"What makes you so sure she's going to come after me?"

"Her threat to you and your prospective baby," Washu replied. "The idea probably never occurred to her before, but you can be very sure she's thinking about it now. A poetic form of revenge on the two individuals most responsible for her son's death."

Ryoko's lips twisted into a grimace. "Me and Tenchi."

"Mmm-hmmm," Washu replied.

"What about me, Beloved?" Ayeka asked.

"You are a public figure, and your absence would be noticed. You and Sasami and Washu will need to maintain 'normal' appearances, as well as devise some method to cover for me." He smiled gently at her. "Besides, I need you here to protect the children."

"Yeah, I wouldn't put it past her to try to kill them while the family is separated," Washu added.

"We can increase palace security for a while," Funaho said, "but they can't remain on high alert for long. Time is on Naja's side...she can wait us out."

"The best defense is a good offense, or so my brother once told me," Ayeka said. "Let's exterminate the vermin before she causes any further harm."

"Damn straight — but first we have to find her," Ryoko grumbled.

"How did you find her earlier, Tenchi?" Sasami asked.

"I traced her quantum pattern," Tenchi added. Tenchi was referring to the fact that the universe is not what it appears: space is really a sea of energy, churned by waves that overlap and blur in very complicated patterns. People see ordinary objects only because their minds filter the underlying patterns of quantum information into something recognizable. There are no boundaries between the edge of one quantum pattern and the beginning of another. Amazingly, no quantum pattern is concentrated in any one location — it is distributed across the entire universe. "It was a question of focusing my mind to the same frequency as Naja's mind. It was very difficult."

Washu turned to look up at her husband. "You never cease to amaze me, my love."

"Why was it so difficult?" Mihoshi asked.

"I'll give you the same analogy that Washu gave me," he replied. "Think in terms of astronomy: if you stand outside on a cloudless night and see a star one light year away, it is clearly visible to the naked eye. If the star moves ten light years away, you need a low-power telescope to make it out clearly. At fifty light years, you need a high-power telescope to see it. Each time it moves, the star does not get any dimmer, but distance causes its light to dissipate — so you need a bigger telescope to collect that light. But at no time is the star ever out of range, because there is no limit to how far the light will shine."

"Ah, I get it," Mihoshi replied.

"Tenchi, you're beginning to sound like Washu," Ryoko warned.

"Thank you, Ryoko!" Washu grinned.

"Does everyone have this ability?" Funaho asked. She was considering how beneficial such a skill would be to her organization.

"In theory, yes," Washu replied. "In actuality, very few individuals ever manifest the skill. Tenchi is one of the exceptions because he has an edge."

"The Lighthawk Wings," Misaki said.

"Mmmm-hmmm," Washu nodded. "Because of them, he has a much more intimate knowledge of quantum patterns and their manipulation than anyone else."

"Impressive," Funaho said. "And very fortunate for us."

"Naja is no longer on Fenris IV," Washu continued, "and chances are she is _much_ farther away by now. Granted, distance doesn't matter when you are talking about quantum patterns...but granularity does matter. The farther away she is the more dissipated her pattern will be, like ripples expanding outward on an infinite pond. Consequently, the larger the area Tenchi examines, the fuzzier the pattern will be — and the harder to recognize. He will need a bigger lens; much bigger, if she is very distant. And constructing the lens (a manifestation of the Lighthawk Wings) will take Power. _Lots_ of Power. Perhaps more than he can access directly. And that would require external sources to combine with his own. Right?" She turned to look up at her husband, who nodded back at her.

"And it just so happens that there are several such sources sitting around this table," he added. Those members of the _Adeptus_ _Pskyer_ caste (like Tenchi and his wives) had the innate natural talent for mentally tapping into external energy sources and manipulating them. This bestowed all sorts of psionic capabilities on those thus gifted.

"We will help any way that can we can, Beloved," Ayeka said.

"Absolutely," Mihoshi agreed. "But what do you want us to do?"

Tenchi grinned. "Sing for me."

"Now _I'm_ lost," Ryoko muttered.

"You've been working with Professor Gayal and her daughter for months now, learning how to harmonize. As they can conduct your voices, I can conduct your Power attributes."

"_Very_ impressive," Funaho said. "When did you acquire that skill?"

"During all those singing lessons, when I was observing quietly."

"And here we thought you were just appreciating our talents," Ayeka chided gently.

"Oh, I've _always_ appreciated your talents," Tenchi grinned. Ayeka blushed, which caused the other wives to chortle. His grin faded. "You were happy, and in an energized frame of mind, and radiated Power at a subconscious level. I tapped into it while you were distracted. For this to work, I will need to duplicate those conditions. What would you ladies say to inviting Araciela and Kiyuma to dinner, followed by an informal recital?"

The women around the table exchanged glances and nods, agreeing silently, before Ryoko spoke. "Sure, go ahead."

"I'll issue the invitation," Misaki announced. "And I'll make sure they bring their instruments with them."

"Thank you, Misaki. I hope you and Funaho will also attend." She smiled her consent.

Funaho nodded in agreement. "I wouldn't miss it."

"And I'd appreciate it if you two were here, also," Tenchi said to Kiyone and Trinnard.

"Of course, Sire," the knight replied.

**ACT 2**

_The following was excerpted from the "Ryoko Forever Fan Club: Tenchi Muyo! Character names in Kanji" website (.):_

TENCHI:

Compound: '_tenchi'_, '_amatsuchi'_ — heaven and earth, the universe, nature; top and bottom; world, realm, sphere. (New Nelson also includes the four-character compound _tenchimuyou_ this side up; do not turn over.)  
TEN: sky, air, heavens, celestial sphere, firmament; heaven, Providence, God, Nature; destiny; weather; top; beginning. '_ame'_ — sky, heaven. '_ama'_ — heavenly. '_amatsu'_ — heavenly, Imperial.  
[NN 1136/JIS 4537]  
NOTE: This character should not be confused with the very similar YOU early death, calamity. Although come to think of it...  
CHI: earth, land, ground, the surface of the earth; soil; place, region; territory; room, space; position; site; foundation. 'ji' — ground, land, earth; the surface of the earth; foundation, soil; texture, weave, fabric; field (of a flag); region; disposition; respectability; accompaniment; narrative part; fact. '_ji'_ (beta) — the ground, the earth. _tsuchi_ earth, soil, ground.  
[NN 976/JIS434f]

Tenchi = "Heaven and earth"; an angel, "Angel" (.com/search?q=angel):  
1. A typically benevolent celestial being that acts as an intermediary between heaven and earth.  
5. a. A kind and lovable person. b. One who manifests goodness, purity, and selflessness.

_Down to the earth I fell  
With dripping wings,  
Heavy things won't fly  
And the sky might catch on fire  
And burn the axis of the world  
That's why  
I prefer a sunless sky  
To the glittering and stinging in my eye_

_I feel so light  
This is all I wanna feel tonight  
I feel so light  
Tonight and the rest of my life  
Tonight and the rest of my life_

_Gleaming in the dark sea  
I'm as light as air  
Floating there breathlessly  
When the dream dissolves I open up my eyes  
I realize that  
Everything is shoreless sea  
Weightlessness is passing over me_

_I feel so light  
This is all I wanna feel tonight  
I feel so light  
Tonight and the rest of my life  
Tonight and the rest of my life_

_Everything is waves and stars  
The universe is resting in my arms_

_I feel so alive  
This is all I wanna feel tonight  
I feel so light  
Tonight and the rest of my life  
I feel so light  
This is all I wanna feel tonight  
I feel so light  
Tonight and the rest of my life  
Tonight and the rest of my life_

Title — "Tonight And The Rest Of My Life"  
Artist — Nina Gordon

"That's quite an interesting proposal, Your Majesty," said Professor Araciela Gayal. She appeared middle-aged, but as with most Juraians it was impossible to guess accurately. She was an attractive woman, whose stylish purple hair was laced with gray. Her voice was rich and well modulated, and when she spoke it was slowly, and each word was enunciated precisely. She had a habit of nodding in rhythm with her speech. "It sounds like you are describing some sort of medieval séance. I'm afraid that I will make a poor medium."

Tenchi chuckled, gently sloshing the wine in his goblet. "Well, perhaps there is a superficial resemblance, Professor, but I assure you we are not trying to contact the dead."

"Nah, we're trying to find a demon," Ryoko said. "A real hellspawn. And she's definitely not dead."

"A situation we hope to remedy," Ayeka added quietly. Azusa sat on her lap, playing idly with a spoon, and she softly kissed the back of his head.

Araciela cleared her throat, momentarily surprised by the study in contrasts: the soft-spoken, nurturing mother mouthing such an unbridled threat. She surmised that whoever they were looking for must be a direct danger to the Royal Family...and they wouldn't take kindly to any interference or obstruction. One glance at Lady Funaho's measured expression was enough to confirm her suspicions; it would not be prudent to decline the invitation. Besides, when push came to shove, the experiment did sound intriguing. "Kiyuma?"

"I'm interested," her daughter replied. She was a beautiful woman in her early adult years, whose voice was deep and throaty and sonorous. Her long limbs matched her long violet hair, and she was easily a head taller than her mother. She kept a professional detachment about her that formed a near-palpable shell, and though readily polite she seldom smiled. She exchanged a meaningful glance with her mother, indicating that she had reached similar conclusions about the nature of the monarch's request.

Washu watched the silent communication, hiding her smile by turning away to offer her hoverchair-bound daughter another spoonful. Neither woman was a Power adept, and the empresses' early misgivings about them had faded when it became apparent that the Gayals had no designs on their husband. They were now regular visitors to the Palace, providing voice lessons to the Emperor's wives. That they had been invited to dine in the residential wing, and were being asked to assist in such an unusual procedure, was itself an expression of trust. And both women were fully cognizant of the implications. Washu liked them, but also knew that they were not above a little exploitation should the opportunity present itself. She had assumed that they would cooperate; she also assumed that _someone_ would tempt them with large amounts of Imperial credits afterwards to recount the whole experience. That would result in fresh rumors about Tenchi's growing talents...usually exaggerated, never accurate, and always useful at keeping the aristocracy guessing. A win/win solution. She made eye contact with Funaho, forming the subtle hand gestures that comprised their private mode of communication. Funaho's response was masked behind the innocent act of reaching for her goblet, but Washu caught it nonetheless. They were in agreement.

"Very well, Your Majesty, we are at your disposal," Araciela announced.

"I trust you brought your musical instruments?" Misaki asked.

"Of course, but we left them in the car."

Misaki produced a comm unit and spoke into it. Within moments one of her liveried concierges entered the dining room silently, an autostylus in hand. She issued instructions, which he entered them into the device.

"I only wish we had a percussionist. I understand they are invaluable for this kind of thing."

"I play the drums, professor," Trinnard offered. Kiyone looked at him with upraised brows.

"Really?" Araciela replied. "What kind of drums?"

The knight described them. "Those sound like bongo drums," Tenchi said.

"I'm unfamiliar with the reference, Sire. But I have a set in my dormitory room."

"We'll have them brought here, too," Misaki announced. She gestured to her attendant, who promptly keyed another set of commands into the autostylus.

"How long will it take, Mother?" Sasami asked.

Misaki deferred the question to her concierge. "An hour at most, Your Highness," the man replied. "Probably less."

Sasami smiled. "Good. Then there's time for dessert!"

"You never told me you played the drums," Kiyone whispered to Trinnard. He merely shrugged. "What else haven't you told me?" She fumed quietly, until she realized that Mihoshi was watching her. "Well, what are you looking at?"

"Me? Oh, nothing, nothing at all." Mihoshi's grin belied her innocent tone. She rose from her seat and followed Sasami into the kitchen, giggling loudly. "Hey, Sasami, do you need some help in here?"

Kiyone realized that Ryoko and Ayeka were grinning at her, too, which deepened her blush.

##########

"We should do this down in my lab," Washu said.

"Actually, that may have hindered the process last time. What with crossing the psuedospace membrane and all," Tenchi replied.

"Well, can I at least bring a few recording instruments in here, then?" she asked, her hand sweeping the common room, whose furniture was being rearranged to accommodate so many occupants.

"Sure, if you can find the space," Tenchi shrugged.

"Oh, I'll think of something." She passed Achika into Misaki's outstretched arms and exited through the portal. She returned shortly carrying an armload of sensors, which she promptly started tossing up to the ceiling.

"Those had better not leave any marks!"

"Relax, Ayeka. They're programmed to hover against the first surface they touch. I'll retrieve 'em later." Satisfied at the distribution of her gadgets, she started to fetch her daughter.

"Uh, maybe Misaki should hold her for awhile. And Azusa should go into his bassinet."

"Why, Tenchi?" Washu hesitated, surprised by her husband's comment.

"Minimal interference," he replied.

"Ah. I see your point. Lady Misaki, do you mind...?"

"Of course not." She located a chair and settled into it, settling Achika comfortably on her lap.

"I'll watch Azusa," Funaho offered. Ayeka grinned her thanks and passed her son into the Queen Mother's hands.

The room was soon divided into three 'zones': Ryoko, Ayeka, and Sasami sat on one sofa, with Washu and Mihoshi standing behind them; the Gayals sat on the other sofa holding their stringed instruments, with Trinnard and his drums on the floor between them; Kiyone leaned against the wall behind Funaho and Misaki. Tenchi sat on the floor in the middle of the room, facing his wives.

"Hey, Kiyone, get over here!" Ryoko demanded.

"I'm not a Power adept," she shrugged.

"Yeah, but you've sung with us often enough. We need your voice."

"C'mon, Kiyone," Mihoshi echoed. "This'll be fun!"

"Go ahead, Kiyone," Tenchi said, looking over his shoulder at her. "You don't need to be an adept, just harmonize with them."

Kiyone would rather not have, but a request from the Emperor — even a friendly request — was not to be ignored. She sighed and worked her way over to stand beside Mihoshi.

"Ryoko, you're the anchor for this task," Tenchi said.

"Huh? Why me?"

"You're the strongest Power adept — and the loudest."

"My, what an accurate assessment!" Ayeka smirked. Mihoshi, Washu and Sasami burst out laughing.

"Thanks a lot," Ryoko growled at Tenchi. She glared at her 'sisters,' and then grinned. "Fine. Then _I_ get to choose the song!"

"Oh, now wait just a minute," Mihoshi exclaimed. "I think we _all_ should have a say in this."

"Agreed," Ayeka added.

"What did you have in mind, Ryoko?" Kiyone asked.

"I was thinking of 'Like A Prayer,'" she replied.

"I like that one," Sasami said.

"Thanks, Kiddo. I think it's rather appropriate, considering the nature of this little experiment."

"But we do that one so often..." Mihoshi lamented.

"I can think of at least _three_ songs more suitable," Ayeka said. "And all of them are proper Juraian works."

"Gee, Little Empress, I don't think nursery rhymes are gonna work for this!"

"Here we go again," Kiyone muttered. "C'mon you two..."

"What do you think, Tenchi?" Sasami asked.

"That one sounds fine," he replied. "Professor Gayal already has the music worked out, and you ladies are familiar with it..."

"See? Tenchi agrees with me!" Ryoko smirked.

"Only because you're distracting him from his preparations!" Ayeka snapped back.

"Let's vote on it," Mihoshi suggested.

Tenchi ignored the banter between the women, instead focusing on the task at hand. He closed his eyes, took three deep breaths to clear his mind, and then summoned the Lighthawk Wings. He heard the Gayals gasp in unison as the three-bladed construct materialized in the air above his head, hovering silently in its Y-shaped configuration. The Emblem of Power blazed on his brow, and both pulsed in unison with a barely perceptible rhythm.

In the end, Ryoko got her way (more by attrition than anything else). Araciela nodded, accepting the choice, and leaned forward to discuss the details with her daughter and Trinnard.

Ryoko waited for the accompaniment to begin. Tenchi had appointed _her_ to be the Anchor for this experiment, and she would _not_ disappoint him. This time would not just be for entertainment or a voice lesson; this time she was singing for Her Tenchi.

Ryoko:

_Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone  
I hear you call my name  
And it feels like home_

All:

_When you call my name it's like a little prayer  
I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there  
In the midnight hour I can feel your power  
Just like a prayer you know I'll take you there_

The ladies' initial reluctance gave way to active participation. They had always enjoyed singing individually, and many times back at the Masaki house on Earth had seen them employing the karaoke machine. Under the Gayals' guidance they had learned to layer their voices into a pleasing gestalt. 'Joy In Unity' had been Araciela's constant mantra, and moments like this proved the value of her motto. Now that they had a goal, their efforts intensified. The Power level in the room began rising noticeably — at least to Funaho and Misaki, who sat with the babies propped on their laps, tapping their toes in time to the beat.

Ryoko:

_I hear your voice, it's like an angel sighing  
I have no choice, I hear your voice  
Feels like flying  
I close my eyes, Oh God I think I'm falling  
Out of the sky, I close my eyes  
Heaven help me_

All:

_When you call my name it's like a little prayer  
I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there  
In the midnight hour I can feel your power  
Just like a prayer you know I'll take you there_

Tenchi's enhanced perceptions detected the Power envelope emanating from each of his wives. They simmered like heat waves above sun-baked asphalt. He felt the textures of their auras, gauging their strengths. Deftly, hesitantly, he reached out and _grasped_ the strands of energy, braiding them together like so much cordage. He wasn't watching, of course, but the wings began to shift, morphing into a ring of interwoven filaments. He opened mind-links to each of them. Their enthusiasm was rising, feeding off of Ryoko's emotions, the novelty of Trinnard's drumming, and the very visible affect they were having on the shapeshifting circlet floating above him.

Ryoko:

_Like a child you whisper softly to me  
You're in control just like a child  
Now I'm dancing  
It's like a dream, no end and no beginning  
You're here with me, it's like a dream  
Let the choir sing_

All:

_When you call my name it's like a little prayer  
I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there  
In the midnight hour I can feel your power  
Just like a prayer you know I'll take you there  
When you call my name it's like a little prayer  
I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there  
In the midnight hour I can feel your power  
Just like a prayer you know I'll take you there_

The ladies were well into the song now, clapping and swaying and blending their voices as they had been taught. However, Tenchi was not paying much attention: he was wrestling with mental imagery, looking for useful parallels to apply to the task at hand. A vision of Sherlock Holmes entered his mind, with deerstalker cap and magnifying lens. He fixed on the latter image as the tool he needed. The ring of Power above him began to spin, flattening into a lens shape, thick in the middle and thinning at the edge.

The Gayals were utterly enthralled, playing their instruments mechanically while watching the Royal Family. They had heard the stories, of course, and seen the news videos — but sitting two meters from the greatest adept in human space, watching him deploy the fabled Lighthawk Wings, was an unimaginable treat. Trinnard, however, accepted the whole situation with equanimity; as Kiyone's Companion, he had spent considerable time around the Royals for the better part of a year...nothing much surprised him anymore.

Ryoko:

_Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone  
I hear you call my name  
And it feels like home  
Just like a prayer, your voice can take me there  
Just like a muse to me, you are a mystery  
Just like a dream, you are not what you seem  
Just like a prayer, no choice your voice can take me there_

All:

_Just like a prayer, I'll take you there  
It's like a dream to me  
Just like a prayer, I'll take you there  
It's like a dream to me  
Just like a prayer, I'll take you there  
It's like a dream to me  
Just like a prayer, I'll take you there  
It's like a dream to me_

The musicians launched into an instrumental interlude, while the ladies hummed and crooned and clapped in synchrony.

It wasn't working. The lens-shaped artifact wasn't enough; he could sense patterns beyond its reach. He needed something better. Fighting frustration, he allowed his mind to free-associate, and a steady stream of images rolled past his eyes: inspector...magician...sorcerer...tools...wands...talismans...crystal ball! He smiled, and the lens above him roiled and inflated into a sphere..

Now he was ready. He clamped a protective mind-link over the other two Power adepts in the room — Funaho and Misaki — and sent a warning down the links to his vocalists:

Tenchi_ - Here we go!_

He released the restraints that kept his Power levels muted, which enabled other members of the Adeptus Psyker Caste to get within 10 meters of him and remain unaffected. The Emblem on his brow flared into incandescence, the energy ball above him burned with a blue-white resplendence, and his wives' Power levels erupted reflexively. Under his guidance, with Power cascading into the structure, the Lighthawk Sphere expanded at unbelievable speed, dragging everyone's consciousness with it. Tenchi sensed their reactions...

* Ryoko's awareness expanded, becoming thin as gas and larger than a planet. She had become accustomed to extraordinary feats like levitation and teleportation and insubstantiality, but nothing could have prepared her for this. She felt Power being drawn from her Gem, merging with her own, flowing towards her husband. This had happened once before, when Kagato had sought to drain it – and her! – for his own nefarious purposes. But this was different: Kagato's vampirism versus Tenchi's symbiosis. She loved her husband and trusted him completely, and thus yielded freely to the rush.

* Ayeka's mind reeled at the sudden onslaught of information. It was one thing to consider such descriptions of spacetime in abstract discussions, but to actually experience them directly was nearly overwhelming. Her Power roared through and beyond her in a steady stream, focused upon her husband, who in turn directed it outwards. She felt a heightened respect for him, and his abilities to weave such raw energies together. He was more Conductor than Conqueror, coaxing closely held secrets from the weft and woof of reality, rather than wresting them loose by force.

* Sasami was on familiar ground. She had shared her awareness with Tsunami on many occasions, although never on such a scale before. She felt Power drawn not only from herself, but from Tsunami through her. It was a decidedly odd experience, but not an unpleasant one. She sensed Tsunami observing, nodding with approval, which quelled her few fears (after all, the universe was vast, and required matching mindsets). She, too, was observing – watching Tenchi as he knitted disparate coils of energy into the net that spread so far and wide. She was immensely proud of him.

* Washu felt the bubble expand at near-infinite speed, which should have been impossible. Out of ancient habit, a part of her mind withdrew to analyze the experience. If Tenchi's Power ball was composed of transverse waves (photons propagating through space), then it would have been restricted to the speed of light. But it obviously wasn't, so she guessed it must be scalar in nature, that is, composed of longitudinal waves (akin to sound waves rippling through air). The Lighthawk Sphere was thus literally a structure of pure information! Her enthusiasm was dampened, however, by the nagging feeling that somewhere in her dark, distant past, she had performed this same exercise herself.

* Mihoshi felt dizzy and disoriented as the Power coursed through her and beyond, and she became aware of the enormous vista spreading before her mind's eye. Over the course of the last three years' practice with Tenchi (under Washu's watchful eye), she had begun to discern the elements of her own Power manifestations. There was a different 'feel' between her electrokinetic talents and her affinity with probabilities (i.e., Luck). And as the Power transited through her, she 'tainted' it with the latter, hoping that it would assist her husband on his quest.

* Kiyone had marginal experience with Power. She had watched for years as Mihoshi effortlessly drew on hidden resources to accomplish incredible things (granted that most of them were disruptive). The previous year she had been encased in Lighthawk Armour during the counterattack against the K'vimm. Since then, she had watched Ryoko and Ayeka sparring in the Practice Area on several occasions, erecting shields and energy weapons from out of thin air. But none of these compared to the mind-altering phenomenon she now experienced. She felt wraithlike and omniscient at the same time, and awed by those who could harness such abilities.

...and allowed the Lighthawk Sphere to expand to the limit of the available Power. Once the construct was stabilized, he focused his thoughts inwards, using the massive instrument as a template to hunt for the quantum pattern he needed.

Funaho watched quietly as the ladies' voices faltered and ceased, replaced by slack jaws and vacant stares. She could only guess at what they were experiencing. Tenchi's face was pinched and sweating, eyes clamped shut in concentration. The Gayals and Trinnard stopped playing their instruments, watching the vocalists curiously. Funaho wondered if they were cognizant (on some subconscious level) of the Power current that radiated from the sofa towards Tenchi. The Gayals slowly cased their musical instruments, closing the lids quietly. Trinnard simply sat still, his eyes roving between Tenchi and Kiyone. Funaho patiently cuddled little Azusa, making small cooing noises for his amusement. Misaki whispered to Achika, explaining why her mommy and half-mommies had stopped singing. The air was heavy with an expectant silence.

After several minutes the Power current paused and then reversed its flow. There was a stir of deep breaths and fluttering eyelids as the ladies regained their composure. The Lighthawk Wings hovered once more above their master, pulsing softly with blue-white light.

"That was unreal," Ryoko whispered.

"I concur," Ayeka added. "I've never experienced anything like that."

"How big _was_ that thing?" Mihoshi asked.

"At a guess, I'd say almost half an AU in diameter," Washu answered. "I sure hope my instruments recorded everything..."

"Let's _not_ do that again," Kiyone said. She looked over at Trinnard's inquisitive expression.

"So many patterns," Sasami marveled. "How does he find _anything_ in all that?"

Everyone turned to look at Tenchi. He was slumped forward wearily, shoulders stooped, rubbing his eyes. He gestured and the Wings evaporated. "Thank you, everyone. I appreciate your help." His voice sounded strained.

"Did you locate Naja Akara?" Funaho asked him.

"Yes, I did. She's on Boreanis, in the largest city on the southern continent."

"Tenchi, Boreanis is 1,200 light years away!" Ayeka exclaimed. "How can you reach that far?"

They all stared him. Tenchi just shrugged.

"Better to ask how she got there so fast," Funaho suggested.

"Another one of her damn dimensional doorways," Washu replied. "This isn't going to be easy."

**ACT 3**

_April roses, tiny sparrows  
Comets bright and new  
All belong together  
With the mystery that is you  
When I see your little face  
I hear a song from long ago  
I think you know  
The many secrets I've forgotten_

_Generations through the ages  
Joined as one somehow  
Leading to the miracle  
That I am holding now  
From the sky and from the sea  
Upon a breeze you came to me  
You seem to see  
A greater universe than I do_

_Sleep my baby, sleep my baby  
Dream of somewhere far away  
Do you remember still  
How I hope you always will  
Keep the memory of the day  
The world was born_

_When you wake up I'll be waiting  
Eager for your smile  
You've had quite a journey darling  
You should rest a while  
When you cry we still rejoice  
To hear your voice — oh yes, it's true  
My sweet Washu  
Please understand how much we love you_

_Sleep my baby, sleep my baby  
Later on perhaps you'll tell  
The wondrous things you've seen  
More miraculous than dreams  
Tell me all about the day  
The world was born_

_[ Instrumental ]_

_Sleep my baby, sleep my baby  
Dream of somewhere far away  
Do you remember still  
How I hope you always will  
Keep the memory of the day  
The world was born_

Title — "Washu's Lullaby"  
Artist — Scottie Haskell

Ayeka looked into her son's face and smiled. Her heart sang just studying Azusa's features. His eyes were the same shade of red as her own, and his azure-tinted hair bespoke the Seto family heritage. But his face was cast directly from his father. His father...so many times during her stay on Earth, she had wondered if she would ever find happiness with her brother's grandson. Though she was technically Tenchi's great-aunt, the vagaries of astrophysics and suspended animation had rendered them quite close together in biological age; and though related by blood, Imperial traditions and Juraian society had permitted their union. Had she been able to look past her immediate problems and see how her future would pan out, she would have been greatly comforted. Washu often spoke of synchronicity and metaphysics and the probabilities that had actually brought them all together. She didn't care, frankly; Tenchi loved her and wanted her with him, however bizarre the circumstances were. That was enough for her.

She laid Azusa on her bed and finished dressing him, speaking quietly to him the whole time. Occasionally her motions shook the mattress, and the manacles on the bedposts tinkled merrily. She couldn't help grinning with each chime, because the tones kindled so many fond memories...and the expectations of more to come.

"Ayeka?"

"In here, Mother!"

Ayeka's suite door opened and Misaki strolled in.

"Well, how's my grandson this morning?" Misaki scooped Azusa off the bed and cuddled him.

"He's healthy and happy."

"Where's his daddy?"

"Off to the admiralty, I believe. I don't expect him back until this afternoon." She rose from the bed and tossed Azusa's sleepwear into a hamper. "Ryoko wasn't very happy about it."

"Oh? Why?" Misaki's interest was based upon more than curiosity: before her husband's death, she had been head of the Imperial bodyguard, and the Emperor's constant companion. Since then, Ryoko had assumed that mantle, and Misaki had taken on the role of privy councilor for her daughter.

"She wants him to keep a lower profile until this Naja Akara person is apprehended or executed. I must say, I agree with her."

"Well, you know the Emperor can't afford to be intimidated."

"I would accept that statement if the matter was under public scrutiny."

"It will be; these scoundrels are never content to remain quiet. Sooner or later the threat will surface, and the media will start comparing dates and schedules. It's happened many times before, and it will happen many times again."

"I suppose you're right," Ayeka sighed. "Shall we go out on the veranda? It appears to be a lovely day."

"It's a tad chilly. You might want to put him in a jacket first."

##########

Ayeka and Misaki wandered onto the flagstone porch that circled the residential wings of the palace. There were many tables and chairs scattered about, and they easily found a location with plenty of sunshine. While they spread their datapads and schedules onto the tabletop, Azusa was allowed to crawl about at his leisure. He was just starting to walk along walls and furniture, and the long railing (with its closely-spaced vertical supports) provided him with plenty of opportunity for exercise.

They spent an hour discussing Ayeka's itinerary, which was usually pretty full. Tradition and protocol required that a member of the Royal Family be in attendance at a wide variety of social functions. Ayeka had accepted this role, and had gotten quite polished at public speaking. She had also taken an active stance on many economic and environmental issues, and these she supported openly. Over time, her influence was being seen in the way her husband's policies and edicts were changing. Empress Ayeka was as popular with the lower classes as Empress Ryoko was with the military.

"This sure looks like a busy place!" Three shadows colored the flagstones at their feet.

"Oh, good morning!" Misaki and Ayeka chorused.

Washu and Funaho stood next to the table, each holding one of Achika's hands.

"Where's Azusa?" Funaho asked.

Ayeka pointed to the railing, where her son was standing and staring through the uprights, babbling happily. "Care to join us?" She gestured to two empty seats.

"Well, actually we were looking for Tenchi," Washu answered.

"He went to the admiralty. Something about acceptance trials on that prototype engine you developed."

"Oh." Washu took one of the offered seats, and Funaho settled silently into the other. Achika promptly tottered off towards her half-brother.

"Is something wrong?" Misaki asked.

"We wanted to discuss an aspect of his immediate plans," Funaho replied.

"About Naja Akara?" Ayeka asked, sounding calmer than she felt.

"Yes." Washu's voice mirrored Ayeka's.

"I do not approve of his intentions," Ayeka said flatly.

"Nor do we, but there is something even more pressing to worry about."

"What could that be?" Misaki asked.

"Palace security," Funaho replied.

"It's been quite effective to date," Ayeka said.

"It hasn't had to face Naja. I've been considering how _I_ would break into the Palace, if I really wanted in here bad enough. Because we have teleport jammers all around the perimeter, I'd just erect a dimensional doorway. And so would she. I know of no way to jam a doorway, and detecting a small one — even originating nearby — is virtually impossible."

"Wouldn't Tenchi sense her proximity to Jurai?" Misaki asked.

"Tenchi may not be here," Funaho said. "And what's to stop her from sending an assassin equipped with a portable generator?" Ayeka and her mother exchanged nervous glances. "No, I think we'd better start assuming that someone will find a way onto the grounds, and plan accordingly."

"So, what do you have in mind?" Ayeka asked.

##########

Tenchi was in his garden, kneeling in the dirt while methodically removing the weeds. He heard the voices before he actually saw them: Misaki was escorting Trinnard and a small group between the hedges, followed at a distance by a busily chatting Mihoshi and Kiyone.

When Tenchi thought of knights, he conjured a mental vision of medieval horsemen armed with hearts of iron and swords of steel. The group who stood before him now were about as far from that vision as one could get and still be tied to the word 'chivalry'. There were several orders of chivalry headquartered on Jurai, with long and distinguished histories. Of these, the three largest had vied with one another to recruit Prince Tenchi not long after his emergence into the public eye. Tenchi's grandfather, Emperor Azusa, had resisted the idea; Tenchi's grandmother, Empress Funaho, and mother-in-law, Empress Misaki, had thought otherwise. A great deal of negotiating had ensued in the private chambers of the Palace, and in the end Azusa had finally conceded. Tenchi eventually gave the nod to the largest. The Order of The Flaming Sword could trace its lineage back several millennia. It had been founded by a monastic order with a militaristic bent, remaining fervently Royalist during some of the monarchy's rockiest periods. In order to retain its strong charter to the Juraian crown, it had relinquished its original nobiliary requirements, conferring membership to any Juraian subject who exhibited outstanding compassion and courage in military or civilian emergency services. Its public focus had evolved over time into support of a wide array of medical and charitable activities, and was immensely popular.

Each passing generation saw the order's ranks refreshed with a constant infusion of courageous and highly motivated individuals. The majority of these new members remained in their civilian or military jobs, but a select few were recruited to become part of the full-time administrative staff of the Order. Sir Trinnard Qualston was typical of the breed: he had been a firefighter in the sector capitol on Kanamitsu, decorated several times for his bravery, before his name was submitted to the order as a candidate. After receiving his knighthood, he was offered a full-time position on Jurai within the Order, which he accepted. It was in the capacity as an administrative assistant that he was first introduced to the future emperor, and served as one of Tenchi's advisors. Later, he had been invited to the Emperor's coronation reception, and there introduced to Empress Mihoshi's best friend Kiyone Makibi. The attraction had been immediate and mutual.

Physically, Trinnard was a strapping athlete taller and heavier than Tenchi. He was not handsome: his blue-black hair and piercing black eyes failed to distract from his large nose and soft chin. But his affable manner and ready laugh quickly put his companions at ease. It surprised no one when Tenchi asked him for him assistance in the coming confrontation with Naja Akara. But afterwards, in private, Trinnard had not been so sure. "I'm not trained as a warrior, Your Majesty. You may want to reconsider taking me along."

Tenchi had shrugged. "You'll do fine, Trinnard. I suspect you can find a former soldier or two among your acquaintances who can give you a few pointers." And Trinnard had indeed sought aid from among his inner circle of friends — they had _all_ volunteered eagerly to go along.

So here stood Trinnard and his friends, all dressed in the robes of the Order, all seeking the Emperor's favor.

"Sire, this is Sir Lorand Jabray. A former member of the Navy's Special Operations squadron, he is trained in all manner of hostage rescue and vessel boarding tactics." Tenchi received a bow from the grinning, heavily muscled redhead.

"And this is Sir Phieer Varo, a former police officer from Seniwa." The bronze-skinned man with blond-white hair bowed deeply, his smile buried in a massive moustache of the same color. He moved easily, but his blue eyes seemed to see everything at once.

"This is Sir Miisa Myminka, a retired Naval officer who served with distinction during the K'vimm Incursion last year." The woman was middle-aged, with the finely chiseled figure of an athlete. Her tightly curled green hair was kept in a military-style queue, and her bow was crisp and smart.

"This is Sir Tayto Bradar, lately of the Imperial Marines." The blue-haired man somehow gave the impression of swaggering while bowing, but the grin on his face was more confidence than arrogance. He was easily as tall as Trinnard, but much leaner.

"And this is Sir Miabel Hakaisha, another former police officer." The woman who bowed was dark-skinned and almond-eyed, very muscular, and very reserved. Surprisingly, her smile was shy and modest, almost lost behind the curtain of black hair that swept her face.

"A pleasure to meet you all," Tenchi said. "You'll have to forgive me for not recognizing you. I am remiss at not making the effort to meet the newest members of the Order." Tenchi, too, was a recent inductee into the Order of the Flaming Sword — but he traveled in much higher circles than they did.

"The pleasure is ours, Sire," Sir Myminka replied. The others made similar comments.

"I trust Trinnard has described our situation to you?" Tenchi asked. He brushed the dirt from his hands and stepped out of his garden, gesturing towards a stone table and benches in nearby shade.

"I have, Sire. They all expressed an interest in helping."

"Very good. I won't sugarcoat the situation: Naja Akara is _extremely_ dangerous, and you can be sure any assistants she has in her employ will be merciless thugs. There will be a great deal of risk. If anyone wishes to withdraw, no one will think any less of you."

Nobody moved.

"Then you have the gratitude of the Royal Family," Tenchi said. He sat, inviting the others to do likewise. Misaki and Mihoshi stood behind him. "The difficulty of this situation can be summed-up in one sentence: Naja wants my family dead, and has proven impossible to catch using standard methods. Our solution: we are going to lure her out of her present lair, and deal with her discreetly...since she would detect any movements by the armed services."

"How do you intend to do that?" Sir Myminka asked.

"I will explain the details over the next few days, since we are still resolving some last-minute issues. Of more pressing concern is getting you properly equipped. We can provide some of the supplies you will need — "

"Excuse me, Sire," Trinnard interrupted, "but the Order will provide us with everything we need."

"Oh?"

"The Order has never abandoned its Royalist position. According to my superior, there have been several instances in the past where the Crown has called upon us for support. It is considered a great honor, and the Order maintains discretionary funds for just such events. You need only tell us what our role will be, and we will do the rest."

"I see," Tenchi replied. "Well, it had been my intention to at least provide you with battle armor..."

"We will have the latest design available. The best that money can buy."

"Well, let me show you what I had in mind." The Emblem of Power flared into visibility, and the Wings appeared over Tenchi's head. He suppressed a smile at the amazed expressions on the knights' faces. He gestured, and the Wings fused, settling into a single door-sized object touching the ground. "Mihoshi, would you mind?"

Mihoshi giggled, stepping into and through the fluorescent construct. She seemed nonchalant as the glowing fog that clung to her limbs hardened into a glistening carapace.

All the knights stared open-mouthed.

"Lighthawk Armor," Tenchi explained.

"And very effective," Kiyone added. "I took two torso shots from K'vimm assault rifles at a range of three meters, and my Armor disbursed the energy completely. I can guarantee that nothing short of a tank can match it."

"Uh, no offense, Sire, but I have my instructions." Trinnard stared at Mihoshi's luminescent shell. "We must wear the Order's livery."

"It pains me to say this, Your Majesty, but I have to agree." Sir Jabray practically salivated as he watched Mihoshi's Armor flexing and adjusting silently. "If for no other reason, stealth would be impossible in armor that glows so brightly."

"A good point." Tenchi gestured and Mihoshi's Armor faded away. A moment later so did the Wings and his Emblem. "However, the offer remains. Just let me know if you change your minds."

##########

It had not been a happy week. Tenchi's wives were already edgy about his plans, and their mood deteriorated even more when he had announced that he was suspending his normal sleeping schedule. In practical terms, that meant he was no longer spending seven consecutive nights with each wife. Since it was the middle of Ayeka's week, he spent that night with her, the next night with Ryoko, the next with Mihoshi, and the last with Washu. This, his last night on Jurai, he reserved for Sasami.

She had made one of her fabulous dinners for them, and then announced that they were eating picnic-style. He had helped her carry dishes and bowls and platters and cups from the dining room to a veranda table. Over dinner they discussed her tutors, the public school he'd attended on Earth, and many other topics.

During the lull at the end of the meal, Tenchi sat admiring the young lady Sasami was becoming. She was taller now than the skinny 8-year-old that had first made his acquaintance. She was shedding the baby fat of pre-adolescence, becoming leaner and more poised as she matured. Her freckles had started to fade. Her azure ponytails were much longer now, and she had started braiding them in a manner similar to her sister. Her pink eyes had lost none of their sparkle, but were taking on a startling depth. The Emblem of Power on her forehead (so similar to his own) had begun to change, the adjacent triangles rounding and separating into two distinct circles.

She tapped her glass with a spoon to get his attention. "Wake up, Tenchi!"

"What? Oh, I'm sorry," he grinned. "I guess I was lost in my thoughts."

"They must have been pretty deep thoughts. Care to share them?"

"I'd probably embarrass you."

"Try me."

So he told her. Adding, "You've always been pretty; you'll be a very beautiful woman."

She studied her hands, blushing. "Do you really think so?"

"Absolutely," Tenchi replied.

"I'm glad. I often wondered how boys would see me."

Tenchi was silent a moment. "You know, if you feel the least bit restricted by this arrangement, we can have the betrothal bond dismissed. Then you'd be free to ask those boys yourself."

"No," Sasami said quietly. "I've been dreaming about you since the day we first met. I've seen into your heart as well as your mind, Tenchi. I probably know more about you than you do yourself. I could never be happy with anyone else."

"Thank you."

Sasami squirmed silently, seeking a different topic of conversation. Her eyebrows popped when an idea came to her. "Did I tell you that my Power attributes are starting to manifest?"

"No, you didn't. Can you show me?"

She leaned back in her chair, brow furrowing in concentration. Her Emblem began to glow, and several of the smaller bowls on the table rattled before rising into the air. Over the next few minutes, nearly every platter and dish drifted skyward, hanging above the tabletop like tethered balloons. After a long pause, the process reversed itself.

Tenchi applauded. "That's terrific, Sasami! How long have you been able to do that?"

"I just noticed it in the last couple of weeks. Ayeka has her shield, and it looks like I'll be a telekinetic."

"That's very impressive. I'll bet you'll even be able to fly like Ryoko, eventually."

"Oh, I hope so. I can't wait until I'm grown up."

"Don't wish your life away, Sasami. You have an awful lot to learn."

"I already know more than you realize," she giggled. "I read _all_ of your father's manga — including the hentai stuff. And I listen to Ayeka and the others talking when they think I can't hear them. And Mother has continued my lessons since we returned; I'm almost as good with the whip now as Ayeka!"

It was Tenchi's turn to blush.

"I'll be 18 in five years, Tenchi. And on my 18th Birthday I'll start planning our wedding."

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Really?"

"Yes, 'really'. The day I proposed I said I'd wait for you; and I've seen no reason to change my mind."

"I'm glad."

They were silent for a while, each lost in their own thoughts (his on the immediate future, hers on the distant future).

"You spoke of dreams. Have you had any precognitive ones about Naja Akara?"

"A few. There is danger, of course. But I keep seeing Naja as a very lonely, bitter person. I feel sorry for her."

"Neither Washu nor Ryoko will say much about her. We may never know what she's really like."

Sasami nodded.

Tenchi checked his chronometer. "Well, that was a wonderful dinner."

"Thank you. What will you do now?"

"I have some final preparations to make, and then I'll sneak off to bed."

Sasami grinned. "I heard the others talking: I think they're planning on surprising you — if they can find you, that is."

"Which is exactly why I didn't tell them where I'm sleeping!"

Sasami paused, a far-away look on her face. "Tsunami just entered orbit."

"Yes, I know. I felt her, too,"

Sasami's face broke into a big grin. "You're sleeping aboard her tonight, aren't you?"

Tenchi's lopsided smile and nod answered her question. "Promise me you won't tell the others?"

"I promise," she giggled.

##########

The Imperial Palace of Jurai was a grand estate that covered a large island in a fresh-water lake. Its natural isolation was further enhanced by many layers of trees and terraces, and its natural security was further enhanced by many layers of discreet and not-so-discreet defensive systems. Within this campus was a collection of cottages, garages, barracks, office buildings, and various support services, generally confined to the island's perimeter. The actual residence used by the Royal Family dominated the center of the island, surrounded by gardens and lawns for maximum privacy.

The island was connected to the capitol city by an ancient causeway, destroyed and rebuilt many times over the millennia, over which ground and air transport were funneled. At the opposite end of the island was the modest spaceport reserved for special dignitaries and guests, strategically located as far from prying eyes (and camera lenses) as was possible.

Tenchi stood on the spaceport tarmac, feeling the wind from the lake ruffling through his shoulder-length hair. Two vessels hovered silently above him, blotting-out the morning sunshine like artificial clouds. Both ships were alive and sentient, and both waited for his commands.

Tsunami was ancient, by anyone's measure. Her vast buttresses and branches, corrugated like tree bark, swept from the trunk in loops and spirals that anchored the command module firmly to her skin. Although conceived in the soils of a planetary crust, she had not touched solid ground since before the first Egyptians charted the night skies of Earth. Tsunami's mind was so vast and curious that she seldom remained in one place very long — but was somehow always around when needed by the Royal Family. Like now.

Ryo-ohki was younger by many thousands of years, and much smaller in size. Her appearance was angular and crystalline, as compared to the graceful tree-ship. Normally, the little cabbit that was so much a part of the Royal Family was a cute-though-unprepossessing figure of small proportions. This belied her true size and form, which resided in psuedospace, much the same way that an iceberg's bulk was buried deep beneath the surface of the ocean. She revealed her hidden dimensions only when needed. Like now.

Tenchi turned to face his family. His wives and children stood shoulder-to-shoulder, the wind tussling their hair in unison, flanked by the Queen Mothers. Behind them stood Kiyone, Sir Trinnard, and his five comrades. And behind them stood a small security detachment, ordered on-site by Funaho; protocol (and common sense) would be observed. "Are you ready, then?" There were reluctant nods.

"Ryo-ohki is ready to take us up to meet Yukinojo," Ryoko replied, gesturing to include Mihoshi and Kiyone.

Tenchi nodded. "And you, Trinnard?"

"We are at your disposal, Sire." Each figure from the Order stood at ease in a splinter-pattern battlesuit, the Emblem of the Order stitched on the left breast. On the ground beside each lay a rucksack containing assault armor, plasma weapons, and toolkits of various sizes.

Tenchi nodded again. He was not eager to leave, but he was also reluctant to drag this out any longer than necessary. Sooner gone, sooner home. He approached his wives, reaching for the closest. Ayeka was holding Azusa, and he was sandwiched between his parents during their silent embrace. "Be careful, Beloved," she whispered.

Washu, too, supported their daughter. Achika threw her arms around her daddy's neck, squeezing tightly. Washu's embrace was just as expressive. "Come home in one piece," she admonished, and then withdrew.

Mihoshi did not blubber, as everyone expected, but she sniffled loudly and clung to him tightly. "I know, I'll see you in a few days. But I still wish we weren't going."

Ryoko planted a long kiss on his lips, and held him without speaking. Then she walked away, dragging Mihoshi and Kiyone with her. Without a backwards glance, the three vanished in Ryo-ohki's teleport beam.

Sasami locked him in a bear hug, demonstrating the great physical strength she had inherited from her mother. "You'd better eat right and get plenty of sleep!" she warned him.

He exchanged bows with the Queen Mothers, and assurances that they would look after things while he was gone.

With his face an expressionless mask, he joined the waiting knights. He signaled Tsunami, and she teleported them off the tarmac.

Both ships turned and climbed into the Juraian sky, dwindling to specks in seconds. And then they were gone.

##########

Washu tracked her family's outbound progress on her instruments...or attempted to anyway.

There were literally hundreds of ships in orbit around Jurai and her moons at any given time. Commercial freighters and space liners, cargo tramps, military ships of all rankings. There were repair facilities around the outer moon, docking and transport operations around the inner moon, several orbiting naval facilities — and then, of course, there was the Corral (the gathering place of the Royal Space Trees) in one of the Lagrangian points.

Washu had tapped into the Juraian space traffic control computers, and thus her monitors repeated what the JSTC saw. Not that it helped much: Ryo-ohki had maneuvered next to Yukinojo and vanished, no doubt because the former had transferred her passengers to the latter, and then joined them. As for Tsunami: she had made a dignified entrance into the Corral and then disappeared completely, no doubt because she had raised her cloak and slipped back into interplanetary space.

Washu watched Yukinojo climb out of Homeworld's gravity well and change course after a few million kilometers. The GP cruiser was leaving the jurisdiction of the main JSTC zone, and was being routed to the proper skyharbor. The skyharbors were a series of massive space stations orbiting at regular intervals around the imaginary sphere that marked the optimum jump point into psuedospace. Their primary business was providing warehousing facilities for transferring cargo between the deep space tramps and the smaller in-system shuttles. Many skyharbors had been damaged during the K'vimm Incursion of the previous year, and were being rebuilt, forcing the others to absorb the excess traffic volume. Hundreds of starships could be seen phasing in and out of realspace in this border region, and thousands more clustered around the skyharbors in transitory constellations. Yukinojo was being routed to one of the solar polar installations, which was smaller, not so congested, and physically closest to the destination logged with the JSTC. In due course, the GP cruiser passed close to the space station and executed the jump to psuedospace, vanishing from the monitors.

Washu stood and stretched wearily, oddly depressed. Then she went to check on Achika in her playpen, and discovered that her daughter had fallen asleep clutching her favorite teddy bear. Washu's gentle smile turned wry when she realized that she herself had been holding and stroking a certain stuffed toy guinea pig, and couldn't remember when she had retrieved it. "Like mother, like daughter, I guess..."

**ACT 4**

_Take the children and yourself  
And hide out in the cellar  
By now the fighting will be close at hand  
Don't believe the Church and State  
And everything they tell you  
Believe in me, I'm with the High Command_

_Can you hear me, can you hear me running?  
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?  
Can you hear me, can you hear me running?  
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?_

_There's a gun and ammunition  
Just inside the doorway  
Use it only in emergency  
Better you should pray to God  
The Father and the Spirit  
Will guide you and protect from up here_

_Can you hear me, can you hear me running?  
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?  
Can you hear me, can you hear me running?  
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?_

_Swear allegiance to the flag  
Whatever flag they offer  
Never hint at what you really feel  
Teach the children quietly  
For some day sons and daughters  
Will rise up and fight while we stood still_

_Can you hear me, can you hear me running?  
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?  
Can you hear me, can you hear me running?  
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?  
Can you hear me, can you hear me running?  
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?  
Can you hear me, can you hear me running?  
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?  
Calling you, calling you_

Title — "Silent Running (On Dangerous Ground)"  
Artist — Mike & The Mechanics  
Written by — Mike Rutherford & B.A. Robertson

The utility van hovered over the roof of the office building, ignoring the obvious landing pad. It drifted in a rambling pattern before locating the air-conditioning ducts and exhaust fans. The side panel opened and manipulator arms lowered a large crate to the rooftop. Then the van floated over the to the landing pad and settled with an unceremonious _thump_.

The woman who climbed out of the van was short and stocky, dressed in coveralls, and carried a toolbox and a crowbar. She waddled across the roof until she located the crate. She leveraged the top off the crate with her crowbar, and then began dismantling the sides. She didn't cease her efforts until the crate had been unfolded like a flower.

There were two box-shaped mechanisms inside, wrapped in shipping foam and restraining straps. More time was spent freeing the mechanisms and lifting them clear of the crate debris. Using the toolkit, she opened a panel on each box and entered a series of commands on the keyboards within. Satisfied, she reattached the panels and gathered all of the refuse, hauling it back to the van. She climbed into the van and directed it skyward, where it merged into one of the many traffic streams.

On the rooftop, the two boxes slowly hovered to a height of one meter. They rotated in place, scanning the horizon until they located the gap in the surrounding skyscrapers. They drifted to the edge of the roof, observing the ornate causeway visible many stories beneath them yet only a few blocks away. The causeway arched away from the shore to a distant island, where buildings and trees could be seen flanking the ancient bridge.

The twin mechanisms settled back onto the rooftop. Nightfall was only a few hours away.

##########

Ayeka tucked Azusa into his floating highchair, and tied a bib around his neck. He gurgled happily, eliciting grins from Sasami, Misaki, and Funaho. His tiny fists banged on the tray top with a staccato rhythm.

"I think he's hungry, Sister," Sasami said.

"I _know_ he's hungry," Ayeka smiled. She settled into the chair beside him, reaching for the bowl and spoon placed just out of his reach.

"Since we're on the subject of food, what should we do about dinner?" Misaki asked. Sasami had announced that she was not in the mood to cook anything. "Should we roust the chef? Or just drop by the cafeteria over at the service center."

"I say we visit the cafeteria," Funaho replied. "Quick and simple."

"That gets my vote," Ayeka agreed. She wasn't really hungry, and with Tenchi absent she (like Sasami) simply wasn't in the mood to hang around the common room.

"Mine, too," Sasami said.

Misaki nodded. "Then it's unanimous. I'll summon a transport."

"I'll go tell Washu," Sasami volunteered.

##########

The two boxes on the rooftop stirred, hovering once more. Their sensors were filtered enough to ignore the bright lights from the city streets and random offices from the surrounding towers. They concentrated on the far horizon, observing the silhouettes barely visible on the island. Traffic was restricted to the brightly-lit corridor of the causeway, and it wasn't all that heavy anyway.

The Alpha unit was the designated leader, and calculated the necessary coordinates. A dimensional doorway coalesced in the air just beyond the roof, and the box-shaped mechanism floated through it. The Beta unit followed a moment later, and the doorway dissolved.

Both mechanisms now hovered in the lower branches of a large tree. There was a series of cracking sounds as tree limbs tumbled to the ground, severed from the trunk by the sudden appearance of the doorway. Moments passed, and no response to the noise appeared. Both units began rotating, sensors absorbing and recording. The sky behind them blazed with the lights of the capitol city, and darkness extended in the opposite direction, broken here-and-there by streetlights and building facades. The largest of these, and the farthest away, was the Residence — which both units recognized from their mission profile.

Alpha Unit floated downward until its bottom surface touched the grass. There was a barely-audible rustling as the unit changed its shape, morphing into a two-meter-wide saucer no more than a few centimeters thick. Energy fields activated, and holographic grass blades appeared on its upper surfaces. Its thermal and magnetic signatures were now fully masked, and in the dark it would pass any casual inspection. It began slowly drifting toward the Residence at a pace calculated to fool the motion sensors scattered liberally between the buildings.

Beta Unit settled to the grass, repeating the camouflage process. It chose a different path toward the Residence, creeping forward cautiously.

It was only early evening, and with the usual bustle and activity of the palace grounds, the odds were in their favor of avoiding discovery.

##########=

Alpha Unit was sheltered in the shadows of the main portico when the aircar settled to the pavement. From where it hid, it could see the brightly-lit main steps. It watched as five human females disembarked from the car and started up the steps. A quick perusal of the mission profile identified all five figures — and both infants — as primary targets. The audio pick-ups confirmed the identification. The robot considered whether to rush the stairs and attempt to liquidate them all simultaneously, or try to isolate and destroy them separately within the confines of the building. After computing the odds, it decided to enter the building and stalk its prey there.

But first, how to get into the Residence?

Alpha Unit was still ruminating when it saw the maintenance 'bot drift past all the security checks and float up the steps and through the door.

##########

Like many of the corridors within the palace, those in the north wing were lined with plush carpets and ornate woodwork. Antique mirrors and hand-painted portraits were interspersed with mounted suits of medieval armor. The windows were framed in elaborate draperies, and many of the lamps were framed in stained glass. Thus, the corridors were composed of warm earth tones highlighted by spots of colored light.

The women of the Royal Family cast soft shadows as they approached the common room entrance.

"The cafeteria is a convenience," Funaho said, as she walked beside Sasami. "No one promised _haute cuisine_."

"I wasn't complaining, Funaho," Sasami replied. "I just said that they could have done a better job with the spice mixture. That's all."

"Ah. Then perhaps you should consider how you phrase a statement, as well as the intent."

"Now you're beginning to sound like one of my tutors."

"Thank you. I'm sure that was intended as a compliment." What might have been an exchange of irritants was quickly defused by an exchange of smiles. They entered the door to the common room.

Washu followed, carrying a chattering Achika.

Ayeka started to enter the door when Misaki stopped. "Is something wrong, Mother?"

"No," Misaki replied, "I was just thinking about tomorrow's itinerary, and wondered if I should retrieve the schedule from my office."

"Really, Mother, it can wait until tomorrow. Come on in and have some tea."

Azusa was snoring on his mothers shoulder, though he stirred when she paused at the door. She massaged his back gently, encouraging him to go back to sleep, when she saw the movement out of the corner of her eye. A moment later the maintenance 'bot drifted down the hallway and into full view, approaching slowly. Misaki saw it and dismissed it as just another automated servant. Ayeka, on the other hand, stared at it, a feeling of unease raising the hairs on the back of her neck.

And then she remembered why.

She suddenly stepped forward and shoved her mother to the side, while a ring of miniature logs appeared in the air around her, raising her force field with feverish speed. The robot responded by opening a panel on its side and extending the muzzle of a blaster. Energy beams lanced down the hallway, splintering against Ayeka's violet-tinged shield.

Ayeka snarled, anger at the attack overcoming the fear for her child. Her shield rippled and a long violet spike leaped toward the mechanical intruder. The robot dodged the threat and continued firing its gun. This dance continued for several moments, as violet spikes and scarlet plasma beams crisscrossed the hallway.

After several exchanges, Alpha Unit calculated that the counterattack had peaked, and that the targets would be vulnerable to a simple physical assault. Accordingly, its outer casing reshaped itself into a small saucer with two stout appendages. These latter terminated it multifaceted mallets. Still firing its blaster, the assassin flew towards Ayeka and Azusa.

The robot impacted Ayeka's shield and sent her stumbling backwards, struggling to keep her force field stable while regaining her footing. Alpha Unit closed on her, its arms alternately striking the violet barrier with a tremendous drumming. Ayeka knew that she could not maintain the shield much longer, and she clutched her son protectively to her chest. Shaken from a sound sleep, and sensing his mothers distress, the baby began crying in earnest.

That's when Misaki appeared behind the robot with a battleaxe in her hands, snatched from one of the mounted displays. Misaki's greatest weapon was her incredible physical strength, which she now employed with adrenalin-fed fury. The battleaxe pierced Alpha Unit's undefended back plate with such force that the robot bounced off the floor. Alpha Unit spun to meet the new attack, only to have one of its arms severed by the ballistic arc of the razor-sharp wedge. Being silicon-based, and capable of computing far faster than a mere carbon-based life form, the robot reevaluated its present circumstances and considered its options. It decided that the best course of action would be to retreat out of range of the anachronistic attack and use the blaster.

Accordingly, Alpha Unit drifted backwards just fast enough to avoid Misaki's next swing. It rotated its body to bring the muzzle of the blaster to bear directly onto the chest of the charging human — but the sudden violet spike that punched down the barrel disabled the weapon's fragile internal components. The second violet spike pinioned the remaining arm, which slewed erratically to the side. The third violet spike shattered the lens of the primary sensor, and crumpled the plate it was attached to. Alpha Unit reacted by dropping the useless appendage, withdrawing the blaster back into its housing, and switching to its secondary sensor array. The robot analyzed the damage to its outer casing, the loss of two of its available tools, and the horrendous loss of tactical surprise, and opted for retreat.

Ayeka's force field clamped onto the robot and dragged it backwards, restraining it for the few critical seconds necessary for Misaki to get in range. She slammed Alpha Unit into the floor again, ripping another huge gash in its armored skin. The robot convulsed, its internal supports and critical circuitry fatally damaged. Sensing victory, Misaki repeatedly chopped the battleaxe into the robot with savage force. Sparks flew off the metal casing, smoke started to ripple out of the sharp-edged tears, and fluids began spraying in random directions.

Misaki kept hacking until the robot separated into four massive chunks.

By then the sounds of combat and infant terror had roused the rest of the family, and Sasami charged into the hallway with Washu and Funaho on her heels. They all stopped and stared open-mouthed; at Ayeka as she calmed and cuddled her son, at Misaki who shouldered the battleaxe like a Valkyrie, and at the quivering remains of Naja Akara's assassin.

"I'll summon security," Funaho said.

"No one, no...thing, threatens my grandson and survives," Misaki whispered, panting. She turned to face her daughter. "Ayeka, how did you know what that was?"

"Since we moved into the Palace, Tenchi has made and enforced only one rule. Even Ryoko follows it, though she complains constantly about it."

"What rule is that?"

"No mechanical servants are allowed in this wing. We do all our own cooking and cleaning, to build character and to honor our traditions. Every robot on the island has been programmed to avoid this section of the building." She kissed her whimpering son, and rocked him gently. "I will never — ever — question your daddy's decisions again," she whispered.

##########

Beta Unit lost contact with its partner, and assumed the worst: the targets had penetrated their shape-shifting and camouflage capabilities, and had recognized them for what they were. Accordingly, the robot dispensed with the mandate for stealth. Its outer casing began to shift, bringing all of its weapons on-line and reconfiguring for maximum combat potential.

Beta Unit was still unsure which wing of the Residence the targets would be found in. However, the robot noticed the sudden increase in activity by armed security personnel, and was reasonably certain that the guards would have been summoned to their location.

With emotionless resolve, the cyberkiller surged through the darkness.

##########

"Harpo, Chico, Groucho, Zeppo, get up here!" Washu stood at the portal to her lab, and summoned her servants. She stepped back as four streamlined predators flew into the common room. Each dart-shaped mechanism had a human caricature stenciled to its upper surface. With an imperious gesture, she turned and strode into the corridor, her cat-sized servants floating faithfully behind her.

She pointed to the cooling wreckage of Alpha Unit. "Scan and acquire all signatures!"

The four silver robots formed a nose-in circle around the debris, sensors humming. After a few minutes they reformed their circle around Washu.

"Harpo, search every room in this wing of the building, employ a spiral pattern. Chico, get to the roof and initiate a building-wide search, same pattern. Groucho, circle the building, pay particular attention to the walls and windows. Zeppo, follow this thing's trail back to the point of origin." The first three robots scattered, phasing through the walls like shadows — or Ryoko. The last robot began working its way up the corridor in a methodical weaving pattern. Washu turned to the others and suggested that they go have some hot tea.

"What clue do your hunters look for?" Funaho asked.

"I figured Naja would employ some kind of cloaking technology, which generally suppresses or masks EM output. So I programmed my little assistants to concentrate on any olfactory signature."

"And that means...?" Misaki asked.

"They hunt by smell! Oh, don't look so doubtful; _everything_ gives off a chemical signature, however faint it might be. That piece of scrap, "Washu gestured towards the remains of Alpha Unit, "reeks of lubricants and other compounds. My robots have noses so sensitive they'd make a bloodhound jealous." She led the group into the common room. "If there are any more of Naja's killers nearby, my cyberferrets will find them."

##########

Beta Unit had reconfigured itself into a squat cone, its blaster occupying the apex, its base hovering mere centimeters above the dirt. It had deployed its own arms at opposite sides of its body, and its primary and secondary sensor clusters occupied armored revetments between the arms. It compromised all-around visibility for optimum weapons placement, and by settling so close to the ground reduced the vulnerability of its sensitive gravitics plates.

The funnel-shaped mini-tank moved toward the veranda, leaving a wake of flattened grass behind it.

##########

Washu was just about to sip tea from her cup when the explosion blew out the dining room windows. She reflexively threw herself over her daughter, shielding her from any possible shards. The other members of the family made similar gestures, ducking under the table or dropping prone to the floor. Moments later the security sirens sounded.

Washu gathered Achika in one hand, produced a small comm unit in the other and dashed through the doors onto the veranda. She was joined immediately by her family. Before they could ask, she pointed into the darkness. "Groucho found another one!"

Illuminated by the blocks of light cast through the windows, and the faint glow of security lights from the roof, they could just discern Naja's second robot assassin. It was only a few meters away from the railing, and had obviously been making its approach when Washu's cyberferret detected it. The silver arrow was orbiting the mechanism at high speed, dodging the scarlet plasma beams hurled at it.

"Harpo, Chico, Zeppo — intruder detected. Rendezvous with Groucho and commence defensive action!" Almost before the words had left Washu's mouth three silver blurs burst from the Palace wall and homed-in on Beta Unit. Muzzles protruded from their sleek noses as their spinal-mounted blasters came on-line, and three beams of green plasma lit the night.

Beta Unit slipped to the side, evading the volley, and countered with its own weapon. The four cyberferrets scattered, circling the assassin in widely varying arcs. At random intervals, each hunter performed an abrupt twist in midair, changing direction and speed to confuse the assassin's targeting computer. Greenish fire bracketed the cone, scoring its metal skin or scorching the grass in blackened streaks.

"Convergent fire on the intruder's sensor clusters!" Washu directed.

Her hunters complied, their erratic orbits dropping to near-horizontal circuits. Restricted to a smaller airspace, they began looping together in tight spirals, all the time snapping calculated bursts at Beta Unit's sheltered sets of lenses and antennae. Naja's robot refused to be intimidated, evading with random lateral shifts. Its own blaster spun about the apex like a high-speed searchlight, spraying scarlet plasma at the silicon predators.

Neither side was gaining any advantage. Beta Unit recalculated its options, whether to dash for the targets so clearly visible on the veranda, or withdraw and return later with increased ambush possibilities. The probabilities favored the second option.

"Look!" Ayeka yelled, pointing at the portal coalescing near the assassin. "It's escaping!"

"Oh no you don't!" Sasami snarled. Her arms extended directly toward Beta Unit, fingers rigid. The Emblem on her forehead flared with azure brilliance, and her hands rotated into a palm-up posture. In response, the closest edge of the robot's base wobbled into the air. It hung suspended, skewed and vulnerable, shaking frantically with its efforts to reach the doorway.

"Convergent fire on the lifter plates!" Washu instructed.

The formation abandoned its defensive weave, all four predators racing beneath the upended cone. They strafed the delicate electronics tucked into the assassin's belly, and were rewarded with a gout of flame and a shower of debris.

Sasami swooned; her Emblem extinguished, her eyelids fluttering, and her knees buckled as the collapsed under the strain. Misaki caught her before she hit the flagstones.

Beta Unit tumbled onto its damaged base with a loud _thump_. And whether by luck or calculation, one of its arms managed to strike a passing hunter. Harpo tumbled through the air, leaving a trail of smoke. Though immobilized, Naja's assassin continued to spray the dodging cyberferrets with scarlet plasma.

"Harpo, execute vertical kamikaze maneuver," Washu said quietly into her comm unit. "Ayeka? I think you better raise a shield around us."

Ayeka was kneeling next to her mother and sister, still clutching Azusa. She stood, her face a determined mask, and erected the violet barrier around her family.

Harpo plunged out of the darkness, straight onto Beta Unit.

Naja's armored killer might have been able to withstand the impact, but not the effects of the hunter's exploding power cell. The apex-mounted blaster disintegrated, and the adjacent sloping sides twisted like crumpled tissue paper. The fireball spewed debris in all directions — including downward into the ruptured body. Beta Unit's own power cell detonated, blowing the robot's arms off with fountains of flame, cracking and warping the entire cone like a collapsing volcano. High-velocity fragments impacted Ayeka's shield with lethal force, ricocheting in all directions. The walls and flagstones absorbed hundreds of metal missiles, and the grass around the dying robot was instantly incinerated. Chico, Groucho, and Zeppo dived downward, phasing safely into the ground.

It was several moments before the Royal Family could see and hear again. Washu's cyberferrets had returned to circling the shattered remains of Beta Unit. The veranda was rapidly filling with armed and armored security personnel, directed by Funaho. Achika and Azusa were both crying lustily, and Sasami was sitting upright and massaging her temple.

"Groucho and Zeppo, return to your search patterns. Chico, scan and acquire this machine's signatures and trace its trail back to the point of origin." She looked upwards into the night sky while rocking her daughter. "Be _very_ careful, My Love."

**ACT 5**

Title — "If I Only Had A Brain"

_I could while away the hours, conferrin' with the flowers  
Consultin' with the rain.  
And my head I'd be scratchin' while  
my thoughts were busy hatchin'  
If I only had a brain.  
I'd unravel every riddle for any individ'le,  
In trouble or in pain.  
With the thoughts you'll be thinkin'  
you could be another Lincoln  
If you only had a brain.  
Oh, I could tell you why The ocean's near the shore.  
I could think of things I never thunk before.  
And then I'd sit, and think some more.  
I would not be just a nothin' my head all full of stuffin'  
My heart all full of pain.  
I would dance and be merry, life would be a ding-a-derry,  
If I only had a brain._

Title — "If I Only Had A Heart"

_When a man's an empty kettle he should be upon his mettle,  
And yet I'm torn apart.  
Just because I'm presumin' that I could be kind-a-human,  
If I only had heart.  
I'd be tender — I'd be gentle and awful sentimental  
Regarding Love and Art.  
I'd be friends with the sparrows ...  
and the boys who shoots the arrows  
If I only had a heart.  
Picture me — a balcony. Above a voice sings low.  
Wherefore art thou, Romeo? I hear a beat...  
How sweet.  
Just to register emotion, jealousy — devotion,  
And really feel the part.  
I could stay young and chipper  
and I'd lock it with a zipper,  
If I only had a heart._

Title — "If I Only Had The Nerve"

_Yeh, it's sad, believe me, Missy,  
When you're born to be a sissy  
Without the vim and verve.  
But I could show my prowess, be a lion not a mou-ess  
If I only had the nerve.  
I'm afraid there's no denyin' I'm just a dandelion,  
A fate I don't deserve.  
I'd be brave as a blizzard...  
I'd be gentle as a lizard...  
I'd be clever as a gizzard...  
If the Wizard is a Wizard who will serve._

_Then I'm sure to get a brain,  
...a heart,  
...the nerve!_

Music by — Harold Arlen (b. Hyman Arluck)  
Lyrics by — E. Yip Harburg (Edgar Yipsel H.)  
From the Film — The Wizard Of Oz, 1939

The Galaxy Police cruiser Yukinojo was originally designed with two cabins aboard. For most of its short operational life, Mihoshi had occupied one of them while the other went empty. After her marriage and assignment to Funaho's security staff, Ryoko had moved into the other cabin on a semi-permanent basis. When Kiyone was brought into the mix, the ship's artificial intelligence had used its maintenance 'bots to reconfigure the bulkheads into three small cabins. They weren't much bigger than walk-in closets, but they would suffice for short-duration flights. Consequently, the ship's passengers preferred to spend the majority of their time in the larger galley, as it reduced the claustrophobia to tolerable levels.

"I don't want to do this anymore," Ryoko said. She was sitting in a galley seat, tipping her chair backwards against the bulkhead, her feet propped onto the table that served for conferences, meals, and the occasional jigsaw puzzle. Her ankles were crossed right in the middle of the holographic projection from Kiyone's blueprints. Ryo-ohki was curled into a ball on her lap, eyes droopy with impending sleep.

Kiyone might have been irritated, except she shared Ryoko's dissatisfaction. She sighed and mirrored Ryoko's posture, blotting-out a phantom building with her heels. She had joined the Ryoko/Mihoshi team nearly a year earlier, and when they had discovered her aptitude for tactical planning and flair for organization, they had turned all of the mission planning chores over to her. Of course, information is power; Kiyone soon became the defacto leader of the group. "Where's the sake?"

Mihoshi was kneeling on the deck, head buried in one of the galley's many cupboards. "I found it!" she called, her voice muffled by the enclosure. She extracted the bottle, stood upright, and pulled three mugs from another cupboard. She retrieved a carrot from the preservator, which she set in front of Ryo-ohki's twitching nose. Then she sat in the remaining seat, dropped the mugs into the spectral model, and filled one for herself. She nudged the bottle towards Kiyone, leaned her own seat backwards, planted her feet on the blueprints, and sipped at the imported Terran beverage.

Kiyone filled the remaining mugs, passed one to Ryoko, and took a long pull on the other.

Mihoshi stared into space, pupils glazed. She had been teased about that look for years, but her companions had long-since learned that empty eyes did not reflect an empty mind. She was stewing about something. "Yukinojo?"

"Yes, Mihoshi?" the ship's AI responded immediately, if not very enthusiastically. "Did you need something?"

"How long have we been in psuedospace?"

"Two hours, eighteen minutes."

"Are there any other vessels within range?"

"No, Mihoshi. Our last contact was an in-bound cargo vessel. We are the sole occupants of this route."

"What's our ETA at the Kuramis Naval Base?"

"Six days, nine hours."

"Good. I ought to be sober by then."

"You, too?" Ryoko asked.

Mihoshi nodded. "These missions were fun for a while, especially after Kiyone joined us. But not any more. Now they're just tedious."

"They call it work for a reason, Mihoshi," Kiyone said dryly. "But I have to agree, the spark has gone out of the whole routine. I think it's time to pass the chore onto someone else."

"Then what's with the schematics?" Ryoko asked, indicating the Lilliputian images shimmering around their feet.

"Just in case Naja refuses the bait, and we have to go through another security evaluation."

"That's what I like about you, Kiyone: always working the angles." Ryoko raised her mug in salute. "You'd have made a hell of a pirate."

"Speaking of angles," Kiyone replied, "here's a question for you Royals: Who do you think inherits the throne after Tenchi? Achika is the first-born child, but Washu is his second wife; while you — " pointing at Ryoko, " — married him first, your child will be the third- or fourth-born. So, who claims the throne?"

"Now _that_ sounds like a question for Ayeka. She tried to explain this whole Line of Succession thing to me once. It used to be that the heir was determined the same way that everything else among Power adepts is decided — by confrontation."

"The Great Game," Kiyone said, sipping her sake.

"Yep. The strongest ruled. Anyway, her father dropped a big turd in the honey by marrying Misaki and refusing to divorce Funaho (something about a constitutional challenge from his barons). The whole matter went to the courts. Yosho was the oldest, and had the law on his side; Ayeka had popular sentiment on her side, and could have used the ancient tradition to issue a Challenge. Yosho didn't want to hurt his sister, and really didn't want the throne anyway. So when the chance to avoid the whole problem presented itself (namely me), he took advantage of it. Then Tenchi came along and the whole argument became moot — he's the strongest _and_ the best legal fit." "So what is Tenchi likely to do, let the courts decide who inherits, revive the old tradition, or just trash both methods and pick his own successor?"

"Beats me. What do you think, Mihoshi?"

"How the hell should I know?" Mihoshi snapped.

Kiyone and Ryoko stared at her over their raised mugs, wide-eyed.

"I'm sorry, Ryoko," Mihoshi said quietly. "I'm a little jumpy, I guess. I think Tenchi will let the law stand, personally. He's more evolutionary than revolutionary by nature." She studied their shocked faces. "What's the matter, didn't you think I knew big words like that? Gods, I'm tired of being away from Tenchi so much, I'm tired of being the GP's poster child, and I'm sick and tired of being typecast as a bubblehead. I'm empathic, not retarded. I've been putting up with this crap since high school. I worked hard to get through college, and even harder to make it through the Academy. I ignored the rumors about sleeping with my instructors, the supposed payoffs to the administration by my grandfather, and the endless snide comments about my lack of coordination. I'm a klutz, I admit it — but I am _not_ stupid."

She chugged half the sake in her mug, leaving a wet mustache that she wiped off with the back of her hand. Her partners didn't move a muscle.

"I used to wait for Tenchi at the bus stop after school, and we'd talk about all sorts of things. We would compare Earth and Seniwa, and I'd tell him stories about my duty assignments. He suggested that I keep a journal, and I liked the idea so much that I've kept one ever since. I like to write, you know. I had poetry and short stories published in college, and I've even gotten official recognition for my duty reports." She looked up from her drink to the incredulous eyes watching her. "I know, real impressive. But I always figured that with my service record, every little bit helps." She sighed, sloshing the alcohol around in her mug. She was getting flushed, and strands of her hair were starting to fall across her eyes. "I like to write. I'm good at it. And I figure I have enough interesting details stashed away in my journal to write a fair-sized novel."

"So why don't you?" Kiyone asked, finally finding her voice.

"Who has time?" she replied morosely.

"If it was important enough, you'd make the time."

"Yeah, right. I also want a family; I want a little blond-headed princess to cuddle and care for, to love me like her daddy, whether I'm a klutz or not. I can't do either chained to an assignment roster."

"You didn't have to come along on this trip," Ryoko said.

"Yes I did. Yukinojo compiled the stats on this Naja Akara for me, and she is pure trouble. She threatened my family; she has to be stopped. And the only way I'll be completely sure my family is safe is if I'm there to witness it."

"And then what?"

Mihoshi grinned, chin held high. "Then I'm getting knocked up by the Emperor of Jurai, taking a sabbatical from the GP, and starting work on that novel."

Ryoko raised her mug in salute. "You go, girl!"

Kiyone mirrored the gesture. She gulped her sake, savoring the burn — and the growing fuzziness around her vision. "You weren't the only one with a reputation at the GP, Mihoshi. I had one, too. I earned it during my Academy days."

"Really? What kind of reputation could you have gotten?"

"I was a machine. Heartless, relentless, and ambitious. (Heh, sounds like a law firm, doesn't it?) Nothing mattered more than my career, and the only way to get ahead was to be the best of the best. Nose to the grindstone, volunteer for everything, be the first on-shift and the last off-post. Who needs a personal life? Just a major distraction and a waste of time!"

Ryoko refilled their mugs, somehow avoiding spilling any of the bottle's contents onto Kiyone's schematics.

"But, the Academy never addressed the quality of life issue. The course on ethics focused on integrating into alien cultures, not how to abandon your own culture. It shouldn't come as any surprise that the drop-out rate in the first five years is nearly 30%. It isn't the pressure, you know...it's the isolation."

"I know," Mihoshi said.

"I can relate," Ryoko added.

"It's so easy to lose your humanity when you're alone so much. I was MIA for three years...and no one noticed. I was just another statistic." She hiccupped during the last word. "That was a real eye-opener, you know? I never thought much about starting a family, but it's another thing entirely to have the choice taken away from you."

"Or never have the choice at all," Ryoko whispered.

"So when I quit the GP, I decided to open up a little. To explore those social options that I had shelved years earlier. And then I met Trinnard. It's been a pretty wild ride since, I will say that."

"Have you two talked about marriage?"

"He has. I skate around the issue. I don't want to be tied down just yet."

"How long will he keep talking, before he starts walking?"

"Huh?"

"No one waits forever, Kiyone. People change...people leave. Is Trinnard worth keeping?"

Kiyone shrugged. "We're compatible."

"Compatible!" Mihoshi snorted. "You and I were _compatible_. Does he get your heart racing? Do you dread being away from him? Do you _love_ him?"

"I don't know," Kiyone answered honestly.

"And people say _I'm_ dumb. Listen to your heart, Kiyone. While you still have the chance."

"Sounds like you're avoiding the 'C' word," Ryoko said.

"What 'C' word?"

"'Commitment.'"

"Oh. For a moment there, I thought you were going to say 'Courage.'"

"No, you've never lacked for courage."

Kiyone was silent a moment, framing her reply. "But what about your courage, Ryoko? You've been awful reluctant these last couple of missions. Very hesitant. Are you losing your nerve?"

"Maybe," Ryoko answered softly, syllables starting to slur from the sake. "You know, there was a time when I would have gone hunting for Naja just for the chance to spit in her face. I didn't care about odds or assessments; as long as I got to kick some ass, I was happy. And when my number was finally up, then I'd take as many with me as I could. But last year, when the K'vimm raided Earth and tried to steal Yosho's Royal Tree...somethin' changed."

"What changed?"

"Me and Ryo-ohki, here," Ryoko gently stroked the cabbit's head, eliciting a subtle purr, "chased their ship out past Mars, and we nearly caught it, too. Then Tenchi mind-linked with me, and warned me we were heading into an ambush. We beat cheeks out of the area pronto, but they sent a couple of big ships after us. We couldn't out-run them, and we couldn't out-gun them, and we had nowhere to hide, and it looked like we were gonna fry." Ryoko took another pull on her mug. "And I was _so_ scared. Not of dying, really, but that I would never see Tenchi again. I had been alone my whole life, and here I had finally found someone who loved me, and now I was about to die alone without ever having the chance to say goodbye to him. And our time together had been so short, and so unfinished, and it seemed so unfair, and I was bawling I was so terrified. And then he arrived in the nick of time and blasted them all to hell...my knight in shining armor."

Ryoko became aware that her eyes were tearing, and wiped them with a shirtsleeve. Ryo-ohki "Miya"-ed softly, and received another stroke. "I have too much to lose now, to be so reckless. Getting myself killed would be bad enough, but getting someone else killed — especially Tenchi — is more than I could stand. Washu might say I'm finally maturing...or that I'm just getting smarter. I dunno." She took another pull on her mug. "Maybe I am losing my nerve. But if that's the price to pay for a long life and a litter of little pirates, then it's worth it."

"I don't think you're losing your nerve," Mihoshi said quietly. "If anything, it takes even more guts to face the truth."

"Thanks, Mihoshi," Ryoko replied. Then she chuckled. "You know, when this is over, maybe we should tag-team Tenchi again, just like we did that one time he came with us."

Mihoshi giggled. "I'll never forget that mission as long as I live! Yeah, we should do that. Have you ever done it in zero-gee?"

"Nope. Got any tips?"

"Well..."

"Excuse me, but I don't think I need to hear any of this," Kiyone interrupted.

##########

Yukinojo's programmers had made the AI as adaptable as possible, allowing for long-term feedback to adjust its emotional parameters, as well as updating the relational rulebook for interaction with assigned GP crewmembers. They hadn't predicted Mihoshi when designing the system, but they had been aware of the wide spectrum of human and alien vagaries/idiosyncrasies. Mihoshi's personality fell within acceptable tolerances, but she most certainly stressed the AI's modifiers. Yukinojo had long since learned how to sigh like a driving instructor.

The alarm had been ringing for nearly five minutes when Yukinojo gave-up and decided for the more direct approach. He had sent his 'bots into her chamber many months earlier and wired her bunk with a neural exciter. Since she was a heavy sleeper, and generally ignored auditory cues, the electrical goosing had proved the most effective stimulus when her presence was needed on the Bridge.

Like now, for instance.

There was a high-pitched _zap!_ followed instantly by Mihoshi's blood-curdling scream. She bounced onto the deck plates, eyes wide open and vacant, long blonde hair twisted and coagulated into a dozen different directions. Drool trickled down one side of her chin.

"Good Morning, Mihoshi," the AI said (in a voice that was almost smug).

"I'll take your word for it," she replied groggily. She scratched and rocked her head, working a kink out of her neck muscles. Then she caught sight of the chronometer on the bulkhead. "Wait a minute, why am I up so early?"

"Long-range sensors indicate a ship approaching on an intercept vector. They will be within hailing distance in twelve minutes."

"Have you identified the vessel?" She was waking quickly, her instincts providing an alarm of their own.

"No. The design is not in my database."

"If you haven't already, begin an action log. All sensor records to be included. Mark the record 'highest priority' and fully encrypt it. And wake up the others." She pulled herself off the deck and began hunting for her duty uniform.

"This sounds serious," the AI conjectured. "Shouldn't I be fully briefed?"

"Agreed. There is a high probability that the vessel belongs to Naja Akara, and she will engage this ship in an attempt to abscond with one or more crewmembers. Combat is almost certain."

"Based upon that information, I am now proceeding to red alert status. Empress Ryoko and Commander Kiyone are now awake and dressing. Any requirements from the galley?"

"Brew some tea. Make it strong."

##########

Mihoshi dropped into the pilot's chair, reflexively locating the restraining straps. Kiyone was already buckled into the co-pilot's seat, querying the sensor logs. Ryoko sat in the navigator's chair, stroking Ryo-ohki's neck and idly typing on the keyboard.

"We're only one-third of the way to the Kuramis Naval Base," Ryoko reported.

"And no one around for parsecs. Nice place for an ambush," Kiyone replied.

"If we don't arrive on schedule, will Tenchi backtrack and look for us?" Mihoshi asked.

"Yes," Ryoko answered firmly.

"But there's an awful lot of empty space out there," Kiyone said. "If we fight — and lose — Naja is unlikely to stick around for long. She'll scamper off someplace else, taking us with her. And even with that quantum pattern scanner, he's gonna have trouble locating us."

Ryoko lifted the cabbit from her lap and twisted her about, so that she could look into the creature's eyes. "Listen, Ryo-ohki: if things here get nasty, you run on ahead to Kuramis and bring Tenchi back here. Do you understand?"

"Miya-mi-meeeyaaaa," she replied mournfully.

"I know, I don't like it either."

"Mihoshi, I have compiled a schematic of the unidentified vessel based on sensor returns."

"Thank you, Yukinojo. Let's see it."

The main holo-display appeared above the console containing the pilot's and co-pilot's controls. It presented the wireframe drawing of a lens-shaped vessel nearly half a kilometer in diameter, but only a fraction of that through the thickest point.

"Oh, c'mon — a flying saucer?" Kiyone drawled.

"While the overall structure is saucer-shaped there are a number of interesting anomalies," Yukinojo said. "For instance, it does not maintain a minimal aspect during flight, as would be expected; the line of flight passes through the center of the ship at right angles to its equator. There are also two rings of unspecified mechanical protuberances near the center and the outer edge."

"Could those be dimensional doorway generator nodes?" Kiyone asked.

"A distinct possibility," the AI replied. "It would correspond to the rumors of her affinity for that method of transport."

"Then why is she chasing us in psuedospace?"

"A dimensional doorway is not a flexible structure, Mihoshi. It must be anchored at both ends. That vessel would have to locate and immobilize us, and then drop us into normal space, before a dimensional doorway could be employed."

"If it comes to shooting, target those rings," Kiyone advised.

"Why?" Ryoko asked.

"So she'll be forced to drop into realspace and stay put until she gets them fixed — giving Tenchi time to find us. If she runs away in psuedospace, she'll leave a wake that Ryo-ohki should be able to track."

"Good call," Ryoko nodded. She looked at the cabbit, who "Miya"-ed in agreement.

"Yukinojo, the primary targets are those rings," Mihoshi instructed. "Secondary targets will be any visible weapons clusters or jump drive modules."

"Acknowledged. There is an in-coming transmission," the AI said. It replaced the wireframe schematic with the communication, and a silver-haired woman smiled at them from the holo-display.

"Naja Akara!" Ryoko spat. Ryo-ohki snarled.

"Why, Ryoko, dear, what a pleasant surprise meeting you out here!"

"Yeah, I'm sure it's just a coincidence."

"Why don't you introduce me to your associates?" Naja gestured at the women behind the command console.

Ryoko was about to rain invectives at the screen, when she caught sight of Kiyone making a frantic gesture behind her chair. She was pointing to her keyboard, and Ryoko glanced over at the monitor where a message had been typed: STALL FOR TIME. YUK IS TARGETING.

"Sure, why not," Ryoko drawled. "This is Empress Mihoshi Masaki Jurai, my husband's third wife and a Detective Captain in the Galaxy Police. This is her ship."

"What a pleasure to meet you," Naja purred.

Mihoshi said nothing.

"And this Is Commander Kiyone Makibi, of Juraian Internal Security."

"We've met," Kiyone said, voice bereft of inflection.

"We have?"

"Briefly, four years ago. Mihoshi and I were both First Class Detectives then, and we were paying a courtesy call upon you, as invited observers of a JI taskforce. One of your lieutenants had taken a liking to one of our detectives, and we were instructed to locate and recover him."

"H-m-m-m. I don't recall..."

"You were busy acquiring a large volume of Ultra Energy Matter. The JI had reason to question your motives."

"Oh, yes, now I remember! That was such a...chaotic...situation. My poor memory just isn't what it used to be," she made a dismissive gesture. "I see you emerged unharmed. Actually, you both appear to have prospered since then."

"You are too kind," Mihoshi said, emotions held in check.

"Well, enough social pleasantries. I must ask — insist, really — that you shut down your drive engines and prepare to be boarded."

"Unless you are in need of mechanical or medical assistance, I'm afraid we cannot comply," Mihoshi replied. "This vessel is performing its duties in accord with the treaty signed between the Galaxy Police and the Juraian Navy, which does not take kindly to unscheduled maritime activities in its territories. Such actions may be perceived as piracy."

"That's sweet, dear. But if you don't cooperate I will be forced to open fire on you."

"That is your prerogative," Mihoshi replied, voice tinged with anger. "However, be warned that we will return fire. And you will be hunted and prosecuted for such activities."

Naja laughed. "I like you. You have such an...uncomplicated...perspective on your present circumstances."

"I know what is legal and what is not; I know what is right and what is not. There will be serious repercussions for firing on a patrol vessel of the Galaxy Police."

"Particularly since there are members of the Juraian Royal Family aboard," Kiyone added. And as I am a ranking officer in Juraian Intelligence, that will only compound the charges brought against you." She gestured at Ryoko and Mihoshi, who both saw the TARGETS AQUIRED message on her monitors.

"This is all very amusing, ladies," Naja replied politely, "but if you are dead you won't derive any satisfaction from it. My instruments show that you have your shields raised and gunports open. Do you honestly think you can best this ship in combat?"

"And our instruments show that _you_ have your shields raised and gunports open. Do you honestly think you'll escape a confrontation unscathed?" Mihoshi asked. She typed one word onto her keyboard and leaned back into her seat, arms crossed and brow furrowed angrily.

Ryoko wondered what Mihoshi had typed — and looked over at Kiyone, who discreetly typed a response on her keyboard.

"I suspect my ship will sustain a great deal more damage than yours can," Naja replied smugly.

"One of my literature teachers in college had an appropriate expression for dealing with such questions," Mihoshi said. her upper body didn't move, but her right foot made an unmistakable kicking movement. The corner of Kiyone's lip curled upwards, and she typed a final command into the system.

"And what was that?" Naja asked.

"'Reality is full of surprises!'" Mihoshi replied.

Ryoko felt Yukinojo's main battery open fire, as plasma bolts rippled outwards in concentrated vollies. The AI had directed all of its guns on the nearest targeted structures along the rim of Naja's ship, where layered shields flared under the assault.

Naja's ship returned fire, but by then Yukinojo had already initiated a series of evasive movements, and the lethal energies either blew past the cruiser or hit its shields at oblique angles. Naja's ship moved ponderously trying to track the agile GP cruiser, and the agile GP cruiser continued to dart about frantically while maintaining fire on its primary targets.

There was the stunning flash of collapsing shields, followed by successive fireballs as fragments of Naja's ship caromed into psuedospace.

Yukinojo's crewmembers had no time to celebrate, however, because the cost of remaining in-range over the same piece of real estate became suddenly very heavy. Naja's combat computers had calculated where Yukinojo had to be to accomplish its objective, and finally succeeded in maneuvering the cruiser into a crossfire. Plasma beams carved into Yukinojo's shields and ruptured them, blowing electrical circuits inside the ship. Moments later the wildly dodging cruiser received its first direct hit, and the starboard engine shattered into thousands of fragments of scrap metal. Unable to evade the next strike, the port engine bay crumpled. A rapidly expanding debris cloud formed around the cruiser.

Hidden among the retreating detritus was a furry little quadruped, who watched forlornly as more convergent fire from Naja's ship penetrated Yukinojo's hull. She remained motionless until she was safely beyond immediate detector range. Then she transformed into her ship-based configuration and raced away at full speed.

##########

Naja Akara sat in her command chair, idly watching her bridge crew perform their duties. Her monitors showed the boarding party just docking with the remains of Yukinojo. The cruiser's aft section was completely shredded, but the bridge and residential sections appeared to be intact. Teleporting in psuedospace was an imminently risky affair, so they had to resort to more archaic methods. She would leave the wreck drifting right where it was, undetectable from realspace, and damned difficult to locate in psuedospace. The Juraian navy would find it eventually, but by then it would be much too late.

The comm unit on her command console beeped for her attention. "Yes, Dootar?"

An image flickered into existence above the panel. The grizzled old engineer she had employed for centuries looked back at her, wiping greasy hands on a heavily stained towel. "It's not as bad I feared, Naja. We can jury-rig a new node, but it will take a couple of days. They knew exactly what they were doing."

"Very well, start assembling your resources. Once we've retrieved our guests, we'll drop back into realspace and commence repairs. Even a casual flyby will not reveal our presence, so we should remain undisturbed."

"Yes, Ma'am," the figure replied, saluting casually as the image faded. He had been with her for so long, and through so many close shaves, that he was one of the few individuals given unconditional access. She trusted him completely.

Kiyone, Mihoshi, and Ryoko were unconscious when carried aboard Naja's ship. Generous doses of a sleeping aerosol had been required for Kiyone and Mihoshi — Ryoko had taken much more effort as she kept phasing through Yukinojo's hull plates and blasting Naja's retrieval crew with energy needles. In the end, she had finally succumbed to an industrial grade paralyser beam.

Naja escorted her guests through the corridors of her ship, from the hanger deck to medlab (a considerable distance considering her cane). She supervised their medical scanning, and was informed by her lab techs that they would be unconscious for a couple of days at least. Satisfied, the parade continued to the brig, where Kiyone and Mihoshi were placed in standard restraining cells, and Ryoko was immobilized in a special device designed just for her.

"Call me when they revive," she told her mercenary guards. They saluted and bowed, as she hobbled her way back up to the bridge.

**ACT 6**

(English)

_Hope is your survival  
A captive path I lead _

_No matter where you go  
I will find you  
If it takes a long, long time  
No matter where you go  
I will find you  
If it takes a thousand years _

(Mohican)

_Nachgochema  
Anetaha  
Anachemowagan _

(English)

_No matter where you go  
I will find you  
In the place with no frontiers  
No matter where you go  
I will find you  
If it takes a thousand years _

(Cherokee)

_Hale wú yu ga I sv  
Do na dio sv I  
Wi ja lo sv  
Ha le wú yu  
Do na dlo sv_

(English)

_No matter where you go  
I will find you  
If it takes a long long time  
No matter where you go  
I will find you  
If it takes a thousand years _

_No matter where you go  
I will find you  
In the place with no frontiers  
No matter where you go  
I will find you  
If it takes a thousand years _

_No matter where you go  
I will find you _

Title — "I Will Find You"  
Artist — Clannad  
From the Film — The Last Of The Mohicans, 1992

"We've been forced to remain in realspace for over four days, thanks to you ladies. But my engineer tells me that the damage you inflicted on my vessel will be fully repaired in the next few hours." Naja stood just inside the hatchway to the brig, resting easily against her cane. "And though it seems unlikely that anyone will discover our location, I've taken the precaution of activating a teleport jammer around this ship. No one gets in without an invitation, and no one leaves without permission!" Her cackle was accompanied by the low chuckling of the two guards in the room.

"I do hope you'll forgive me for placing you in such primitive facilities," Naja said to Kiyone and Mihoshi. "We have so little use for a brig, and our few occupants are generally so much...coarser...than you ladies." She tapped Kiyone's cell door bars with her cane. "I have to admit, though, there is a certain charm about these cages. Such an efficient design; so very Spartan, yet so very sturdy." She chuckled and turned to face Ryoko. "I had to take rather more drastic measures with you, Ryoko, dear. We couldn't have you phasing off that table, or burning through your restraints, now could we? No, that simply wouldn't do. That power inhibitor integrated into your biobed cost me a pretty penny, but it's guaranteed to reduce any member of the Adeptus Psyker caste to a mere mortal — with the possible exception of your husband. I sincerely doubt there is a device in existence that could inhibit him...though it might be amusing to try. And you needn't exert too much effort on those restraints; even your strength is insufficient to break them."

Ryoko mumbled a question through the gag in her mouth.

"Pardon me? Did you ask what my intentions are? My plan is really very simple: I'm going to fertilize one of your eggs from Kagato's preserved sperm samples!"

Ryoko roared beneath the gag, eyes aflame with horror and hatred.

"Since your system is still adjusting to its restored fertility cycle, this is not the optimum time for the procedure. So I'll just keep you under lock and key for a few days while your body settles down properly. Oh, no need to thank me, my dear. It will be so wonderful to have my Kagato back again...and even more powerful than ever, since he'll incorporate _your_ DNA as well. You know, I think I even have some of his memory engrams stored away somewhere, so we'll be able to infuse the fetus with his personality, too! He was _such_ a charmer, wasn't he...?"

Ryoko writhed on the table, trying to break out of her restraints, trying to summon Power and hurl energy bolts at the witch before her. Nothing worked. Naja watched the failed attempts with open amusement. Then she turned to the cells where Kiyone and Mihoshi were incarcerated.

"I should probably dispose of you two immediately, since you represent a significant threat. However, you," she gestured at Kiyone, "have quite a distinguished service record with the GP — and there are a number of your former...clients...that might enjoy the chance to get reacquainted. And you," she gestured at Mihoshi, "produced some truly remarkable readings on my instruments. I think you warrant further investigation before your final...dissection." She laughed coolly and turned for the door. "Keep an eye on my guests, if you please," she said to the guards. They nodded smartly and returned her smile. Satisfied, she hobbled out of the chamber.

Ryoko muttered something expressive, and the guards chortled.

Kiyone flopped onto her bunk, crossed her arms and legs, and glared at the guards. They grinned back.

Mihoshi settled quietly onto her own bunk, staring at the ceiling. Even if she had a gun, and shot both goons, she doubted if she could get past the door lock. Sighing deeply, she tried to relax. The thought of a gun caused her mind to drift back to a time when she and Tenchi had visited the shooting range maintained by the Palace guards. She had demonstrated her marksmanship for him, and he was suitably impressed. "You have a real flair for firearms," her husband had told her, and she had blushed from the compliment.

Another memory slipped into her mind, a visit to Washu's lab, where she had listened to an explanation on how her Power attributes worked. "You're an electrokinetic — you can cause catastrophic damage to circuitry in any machine," Washu had explained. But as far back as she could remember, she could never control it or predict its occurrence. She could sure use the ability now.

She thought about Tenchi, and the very real chance that he would never find them. She'd never see him again, or hold him, or make love to him, or have any of his children...

Mihoshi's normal response was an outburst of tears, which generally reduced her to a blubbering mess. But this time her frustration had a target: Naja Akara. This was all _her_ fault. Mihoshi felt the heat rising in her, and the memories echoed and reverberated in her mind until they fused, and an idea formed. She sat up on the edge of the bed and looked at the guards. They looked back, bored and arrogant. Kiyone looked over from her own cell, eyes slitted and simmering. Ryoko glanced over from the biobed, withdrawn and worried.

Mihoshi formed her right hand into a 'pistol': thumb high and forefinger rigid. Her left hand was cupped under the right one in the classic brace position. Then she brought her hands up to her face and extended her arms towards the nearest guard, bringing the digital barrel on target. The guards laughed derisively, and her partners' eyebrows arched in surprise.

She had been trained to aim for the center of mass (i.e., the chest) and release one long burst. Now, she aimed at the assault rifle in the mercenary's hands, and in her mind visualized the circuits controlling the energy cell. She recalled the recent experience of Power flowing through her and beyond, and the knowledge that if she and her partners didn't escape soon, they would all face terminal fates — and she would never see Tenchi again. Anger bubbled to the surface, sharpening her sense of focus. She audibly pulled the trigger: "Bang!"

Power swelled up from the small of her back, surging along her spine, through her shoulders, and cascading down her arms. Her hands burned with the sudden energy passage.

The closest guard's sneer faded as the weapon in his hands suddenly started vibrating, and its overload warning blared automatically. He had just enough time to release the rifle before the battery detonated, the fireball disassembling his body into its component parts. Organic fluids and residue spattered the wall over the man-shaped silhouette burned into its surface. The other guard staggered backwards from the concussion, and Mihoshi turned her 'pistol' on him.

He saw it and threw his rifle towards Kiyone's cell. Mihoshi ignored the gesture, aiming for the sidearm strapped to his thigh. "Bang!"

The guard heard the overload warning whining shrilly from his leg, and he slapped frantically at the holster. The subsequent explosion snapped him apart like a celery stalk, tumbling the remains into a gooey puddle in a corner.

Mihoshi stood and walked slowly over to her cell door, aware of her partners' astonished-but-encouraging looks.

The cell used an electronic key, rather than a manual key. She wasn't at all familiar with the circuitry needed to lock and unlock the door, so instead she just visualized burning wires. She pointed her 'pistol' at one of the panels along the frame: "Bang!" Smoke poured out from behind the panel, and the door lock disengaged. There were audible gasps from her partners.

Mihoshi grinned self-consciously and stepped out of her cell, turning towards the controls for Kiyone's cell door. "Bang!" The panel tumbled off the wall in a shower of sparks, and Kiyone was free.

Kiyone promptly grabbed the assault rifle off the floor, and dragged Mihoshi towards Ryoko's biobed. "I don't know what you did, but don't stop doing it!" She gently removed the gag from Ryoko's mouth, while Mihoshi destroyed the Power Inhibitor.

Ryoko hugged them both gratefully. To Mihoshi she said, "So you finally got a handle on your Power attributes, huh? What made the connection?"

"I want Tenchi," she replied.

"Me, too," Ryoko grinned.

"Let's get out of here first," Kiyone said. "Those explosions must have triggered some alarms, and we're sitting ducks in here."

"Like hell we are. Maybe I can't teleport, but I have other options!" Ryoko hovered off the floor, grabbed her partners, and phased them all through the ceiling to the next level above.

They found themselves standing just off the grand gallery, the main corridor that formed the equator of Naja Akara's ship.

"Let's split up and try to find the com center," Kiyone said. "We can call for help from there. Ryoko, you go that way, Mihoshi and I will go this way."

"Right," Ryoko nodded, and flew off down the corridor.

"C'mon, Mihoshi, let's go." Kiyone lead her partner down the opposite corridor.

##########

The grand gallery followed the general contour of the ship, curving gradually and cut at regular intervals with perpendicular cross-corridors...until it disappeared into one side of a large chamber, continuing its passage on the far side. Kiyone and Mihoshi heard the hum of many voices as they crept closer.

The cafeteria, of course. And it just had to be full of armed mercenaries, mostly human. Fortunately, the majority were head-down over their trays, scooping protein into their mouths with little regard for appearance or diplomacy. A few, though, were watching the door when Kiyone and Mihoshi tried to walk in nonchalantly — and they raised the alarm by raising their weapons and voices. The room as a whole turned to regard them.

"Aw, hell," Kiyone said, dragging Mihoshi back through the doorway, "this just isn't my day." Blaster fire and microexplosions rippled on the bulkheads around them, until they were safely around the bend in the corridor.

"I suppose there is no other way around, is there?" Mihoshi asked.

"I dunno, but I don't think we have the time to look. We're gonna have to go through them."

"Any suggestions?"

"None at all, other than don't get killed. We could sure use a good forcefield right about now."

"Yeah, where's Ayeka when you need her?" Mihoshi replied, looking around for anything useful.

Kiyone pointed her rifle at the nearest door and squeezed off several shots. It fell into the corridor with a loud _thud_ and a gust of displaced air. She grabbed one corner and heaved, lifting it off the floor. "Not too heavy."

Mihoshi tugged the opposite side up to shoulder level. "Just like old times. Who leads?"

"I will." She shouldered her rifle and grabbed the edges of the plate. "Ready? Then let's go!"

They charged back down the corridor, with Kiyone running along the wall and Mihoshi following down the middle. The makeshift shield was thus held at an angle, and plasma bolts ricocheted off the door surface rather than sticking and burning through. The first solid object they encountered was two-legged and too slow to react, and they ran right over him. They encountered three more soft speed bumps, dealt with in the same manner.

As they neared the cafeteria door, Mihoshi drifted sideways, directly behind Kiyone. They thus presented a broadside panel to the room as they raced across to the opposite exit — and through it.

"Dump the door!" Kiyone yelled, as she and Mihoshi released the panel and accelerated down the corridor. Blaster fire shadowed them all the way around the next bend.

##########

Ryoko hovered in the grand gallery, looking down the corridor as far as she could see. She sensed an ambush up ahead, and she considered her options.

She peaked behind one or two hatches until she found what she wanted: a maintenance locker. Pipes of all shapes and sized ran vertically and horizontally through the chamber. She picked one of the larger ones, ignited her energy sword, and cut away a section of pipe about two meters tall. She caught it as it fell.

She had no idea what was normally pumped through the pipe, but it seemed dry enough and clean enough. She lowered it to the floor, phased through the heavy metal sidewall, and settled herself inside.

Encased in her jury-rigged shell, she floated off the floor, through the bulkhead, and started down the grand gallery.

It happened at an intersection, where a half-dozen mercenary guards opened-up on her from both sides. Their plasma beams were ineffective against the pipe she carried, and more than a few beams rebounded back to their point of origin with lethal pyrotechnics. Bodies flopped noisily to the deck of both side corridors. She considered pausing long enough to play with the survivors, but decided against it. She had more pressing issues.

She did stay long enough to shed her shell, materialize her energy sword, and thrust it through their personal comm units. She also acquired a small collection of flash-bang and smoke grenades. She liked surprises — especially when she was on the giving end.

Donning her tubular armor, she ignored the moaning and twitching from the deck and continued her flight down the corridor.

##########

"This just gets better and better," Kiyone growled. "The group in the cafeteria must have radioed ahead." A contingent of armed thugs had been waiting for them at the next intersection — she and Mihoshi had barely managed to duck into recessed hatchways. "We'd better dispose of this bunch, before the others show up and box us in." She peeked around the coaming and snapped-off a shot, grinning maliciously as the target's shoulder vanished in a spray of flame.

Mihoshi dropped to the deck and rolled into the corridor, well clear of cover. She raised both hands as 'pistols' and began alternate shooting gestures. "Bang-Bang-Bang-Bang!" It might have been a ludicrous image if not for the four subsequent explosions and the corresponding screams. She started to rise, and then rolled frantically back into the safety of the hatchway. "They've got a walker!"

Kiyone heard the ponderous clanking, and snuck a quick peek. The occupant of the heavy combat suit saw her and pointed one of his arms her direction. She retreated just as the spot recently occupied by her head flamed a hideous shade of orange. "I hate walkers!" Kiyone snarled.

Mihoshi leaned around the doorjamb and raised her hand. "Bang! Bang! Bang!" She, too, returned to cover just in time. "I can't seem to hurt it!" she cried.

"What are you shooting at?"

"The overload circuit to the battery, just like all the other guns."

"Mihoshi, that wiring is heavily shielded against EMP — it would take a cannon to punch through the casing!" The clanking was getting louder as the Walker approached. She risked another peek to confirm that the two-legged tank and two more unarmored mercenaries were moving relentlessly towards them.

"If that's what it takes, so be it. Cover me!"

Kiyone had often questioned her partner's judgment over the years — but never failed to support her. Without hesitation, she dropped to one knee and leaned around the corner, peppering the walker with blaster fire. While the shots flared ineffectually, the exposed mercenaries dived for cover. It also brought the walker's guns pointing straight at her. She rolled back into cover just as the doorframe shuddered.

Meanwhile, Mihoshi hopped into the open, both arms raised, all ten digits extended towards the threat. In her mind, she ratcheted her 'weapon' upwards from handgun to howitzer. "BOOM!" she yelled. She trembled visibly from the Power discharge — and then was flung backwards as the huge battlesuit detonated.

A ball of flame rolled past Kiyone, barely missing the prone Mihoshi. The corridor was filled with clouds of greasy black smoke, and the smell of scorched metal and burned meat. Kiyone's ears were ringing as she scrambled over to her partner and coaxed her upright. Mihoshi was still dazed, and so had to be supported as they staggered forward into the pall, past the still-burning wreckage.

##########

Ryoko followed the grand gallery until it vanished into a large chamber. One quick glance told her she was in a maintenance bay of some sort, with heavy machinery filling most of the space and spare parts cabinets lining the bulkheads. Unfortunately, she was not alone.

The man waiting for her was quite tall, slim as a runner, and crowned with jet-black hair that rolled off his shoulders and spilled down his back. His robes had the Spartan-but-tailored look of a professional soldier, although he wore no weapons. He was undeniably handsome — but the attraction was spoiled by the arrogant posture that all ranking members of the Adeptus Psyker caste affected. He radiated confidence and menace at the same time. He was also standing inside a globular forcefield.

"Ah, the Empress Ryoko!" His voice was deep and resonating. "I have wanted to meet you for so very long. Please, dispense with that ridiculous-looking shell and join me for some conversation."

Ryoko didn't have time to spare with pleasantries — particularly with one of Naja Akara's ranking lieutenants — but she did phase through the sidewall of the pipe. It hit the deck with a loud _clang_. "Who the hell are you?"

"My name is Cotan Shaygeron. Perhaps you've heard of me...?"

"Nope. Should I have?"

"I have a reputation within certain circles of interest to Juraian Security."

"An assassin," Ryoko spat.

"Quite so. You disapprove?"

Ryoko shrugged. "As long you stay away from me and mine, I don't care if you sweep the streets. Now, if you'll excuse me..." She started to fly around him, but he stepped in front of her.

"Oh, you can't leave just yet — we have so much to discuss!"

"Like what?"

"I have an offer for you to consider," Cotan replied smoothly. Ryoko's silence encouraged him to continue. "I have long been an admirer of yours. Your reputation is exceeded only by your beauty, which is completely wasted on that lummox husband of yours."

Ryoko bristled with the insult, and started to reply, but Cotan held up his hands disarmingly.

"Please, hear me out!" Cotan paused waiting to see Ryoko's reaction. "Really, I don't understand how can you tolerate to share one man with those other women. If you would consider an alliance with me, I can guarantee you that you would receive all of my affection and devotion. It would give me the greatest joy to keep you pleased and happy."

"Yeah, right. And how many women were there before me? Did you promise them the same devotion, until they grew tiresome and you disposed of them? My husband is ten times the man you'll ever be."

Cotan's placating smile faded. "I had hoped you would at least consider my offer before spurning me outright. What if I issued him a Challenge, and defeated him in the traditional manner? Would you accompany me then?"

Ryoko laughed in his face. "You? Beat Tenchi? Oh, that is funny!"

Cotan's expression didn't change, but his voice hardened. "Very well, since you won't become my next Companion, I guess you will have to become my next victim!" The surface of his forcefield bubbled, and a long spike extended forward at incredible speed. Ryoko twisted to avoid it, because even in a phased state she was vulnerable to energy constructs. She managed to evade the first spike, and the second, but not the third. It impaled her left shoulder, and she bit back a scream as she lost the feeling in her left arm.

"I could offer some platititude about how much this is going to hurt me more than it is you — but that would be blatantly false. Farewell, Empress, we could have had such a wonderful time together."

Ryoko passed through the deck and flew backwards — just as force projections stitched her trail like a sewing machine needle. Fortunately, her restorative powers were dealing with her wound, and the feeling was starting to return to her hand. She flew through the cabins in a random pattern, trying to get past him, but somehow he knew where she was, and continued to puncture the ceiling and bulkheads just behind her.

Which pissed her off major.

She rose back through the plating to confront him, launching a energy spray of energy needles at his face. They splintered harmlessly off of his shield, which drew a disappointed sigh from him. She ignored the insult, because the attack had only been a diversion. She started tossing grenades onto the deck around him.

Too late he realized the danger, as the first flash-bang exploded right in front of him. He clutched his eyes and staggered, temporarily blinded by the incandescent flash and deafened by the concussion. Two smoke grenades lit-off, flooding the bay with a chemical fog. Ryoko flew around him, tossing two more flash-bang grenades to keep him disoriented. Then she ignited her energy sword and traced a line in the floor all the way around his shield.

Cotan Shaygeron (still enclosed in his globular shield) rode the circular section of deck plates through the new hole to the level below, leaving trails of turbulence in the clouds of smoke. A thunderous _clang_ of metal-on-metal followed the assassin's exit, nearly muffling his anguished scream.

"Take _that_, you bad old putty tat!" Ryoko smiled wolfishly, bidding homage to all the inspirational cartoons she had watched on Earth.

##########

Ryoko flew up the elevator shaft to the next level, passing through the doors and appearing in the corridor right beside Kiyone and Mihoshi. They all lowered their weapons upon recognition. "You didn't find it either, huh?"

"Nope. I did find a terminal in one of the side corridors, and used it to display a schematic of this ship, but it didn't help." Kiyone eyed both directions of the corridor nervously.

"Shall we split up again?"

"No, I don't think we accomplished much. And a couple of times we could have used your help."

"Yeah, they're settin' up receptions for us everywhere. They must be monitoring us pretty effectively."

"We could just make a run for the hangar bay and look for a shuttle, or try to find a life boat," Mihoshi suggested.

"Well, even assuming that we didn't get vaporized by one of the ship's main batteries on the way out, we really don't know where we are," Kiyone said evenly. We could be adrift for weeks in a boat with minimal air and water. No offense, but I think I'll take my chances on board."

"Yeah, you're right," Mihoshi said.

Ryoko just rolled her eyes. "C'mon, you two — we're wasting time."

##########

Ryoko hovered off the floor, energy sword held defensively before her. Standing on the deck was a husky, squat man with an energy sword of his own. She materialized and manipulated hers directly; his was generated by an artifact similar to the Master Key. Her blade was red with a yellow core; his blade was violet with an azure core.

They glared at one another.

"Why don't you save us all a lot of trouble and just get out of the way," Ryoko growled.

"Killing you will be a pleasure, Ryoko...since you killed one of my ancestors."

"Stand aside, or you'll be joining your ancestor soon enough!"

"I will extend you more courtesy than you deserve, harpy. I am Blanim Tyllon, swordsman and third rank master of the Adeptus Psyker caste — "

"And paid stooge of Naja Akara," Ryoko sneered. "Interesting that you can look down your nose at me, yet take blood money from someone who's killed ten times more than I ever did. How very discriminating of you."

Blanim ground his teeth together, visibly wrestling to control his temper.

"Your talents are quite well known, Ryoko," said the woman holding a gun to Mihoshi's head. Mihoshi was suspended horizontally off the floor, trussed like a dressed game bird by bands of yellow energy. "I've seen several of the public exhibitions staged with your husband. You are indeed formidable — so formidable, in fact, that we find we must discourage you from using some of your talents to allow Blanim his moment of revenge."

"Yes," said the woman holding an energy ball next to Kiyone's head. "It is fortunate for us that Naja has the teleport jammer in operation. And we think we have sufficient leverage here to convince you not to phase through the floors like you did with poor Cotan." She sighed melodramatically. "He'll recover soon enough, though you probably won't be around to see him."

"Just who the hell are you two, anyways?" Ryoko asked, never taking her eyes off of Blanim.

"Oh! Where are our manners? I forgot that you and her," nodding to Mihoshi, "are two of the Emperor's wives. Allow me to introduce myself: I am Breemmilie Zijette, not yet ranked, but with high aspirations." Her smile was cold and calculating. She was tall and raven-haired, wearing orange and white robes that clung suggestively to her ample curves. The gun she held on Mihoshi seemed oversized in her dainty hand.

"I am Vyayla Nakayla. My rank is irrelevant." She was short and svelte, and her close-cropped hair was as yellow-orange as the flame in her hand. The other hand gestured and a band of flame encircled Kiyone's waist like a slithering snake. Kiyone withdrew visibly from the threat. The adept's black robes rustled noisily, providing the _crackling_ that the artificial fire lacked.

"Enough talk!" Blanim snarled, and launched himself at Ryoko.

She met the attack directly, allowing their blades to slam together in a shower of sparks — and was startled into near paralysis when he jumped straight up to the ceiling and stuck there. They were now face-to-face but 180 degrees apart, and though it didn't improve his position any, it was disconcerting in the extreme. Ryoko was forced to reorient herself, just to keep up with him. He charged her, and she responded by adroitly parrying the cuts and thrusts. He suddenly jumped for the nearest bulkhead, twisting in midair to bring his feet squarely on the plates. Ryoko swung at him and missed, and then had to reorient herself yet again. This continued for several moments, Blanim chasing her along the grand gallery randomly jumping to yet another surface in an effort to confuse her. He seemed completely comfortable at any angle, able to attack and defend with alacrity.

For her part, Ryoko continued to hover betwixt deck plates and overhead, keeping just out of his reach, her sword deftly redirecting each of his strikes. Her techniques had been improving over the last couple of years, under the tutelage of her husband's grandfather, Yosho Jurai, and her recent study with Kaline Breexandra Sensei. But she was not known for her patience: with a shout she planted her feet on the bulkhead and launched an attack of her own. Now it was Blanim's turn to stagger, because Ryoko was far stronger than he was.

She pummeled him with blows, which he parried or evaded, and waited for the inevitable counterattack. The move was slick, and might have worked under normal circumstances. It was an off-hand grab for her sword handle, Blanim probably figuring that since she was able to grasp it, he ought to be able to, also. Ryoko let him discover the error of his ways: her skin was made of different materials than his, and was able to tolerate higher damage rates and provide faster repairs. Blanim's palm turned black the second it came in contact with the glowing red 'handle', and he screamed as his arm recoiled. Ryoko closed the gap between them and buried the pommel of her sword a full inch into his chest. He screamed again, louder and more strident, as he felt skin and bone cauterizing, and smelled his own muscles cooking. She yanked the sword free, strands of molten flesh still sticking to it, and then stamp-kicked him square in the stomach. He tumbled from the bulkhead, skull bouncing onto the steel deck plate with a sickening _thud_.

Ryoko hovered over her opponent, panting, watching carefully before being convinced he was incapacitated. "Oh, Tenchi," she whispered, "where _are_ you?"

##########

Tenchi - _Closer than you know_

Ryoko,Mihoshi,Kiyone _- Tenchi! You found us!_

Tenchi _- I will always find you. I'll join you shortly. But for now, I want you to surrender to Naja's lieutenants_

Ryoko_ - Whatever for?_

Tenchi_ - Because they'll take you to her, and then I'll have you all in one place_

Kiyone_ - Makes sense..._

_Ryoko - I don't like it!_

Mihoshi_ - Where are you?_

Tenchi_ - We're just about to dock with one of the emergency hatches and burn our way inside_

Kiyone_ - And you haven't been noticed?_

Tenchi_ - Tsunami is cloaked. Even this close, they can't see her. Now turn yourselves in before someone gets hurt_

Feeling considerably calmer, Ryoko extinguished her energy sword and turned to face the group at the end of the corridor. "I yield."

"You what?" Breemmilie asked, obviously surprised. She had expected Ryoko to rush them, or stalk them though the bulkheads.

"I give up. You win. No more resistance. Take us to your leader."

Still amazed, and more than a little suspicious, Naja's lieutenants complied.

##########

One would have expected the ship's bridge to be as centrally located as possible. Thus, one would be wrong — and thus why Ryoko, Kiyone and Mihoshi had not been able to locate it. It was tucked into an obscure location two decks below the grand gallery, not far from the brig.

It was, however, quite large. Approximately pie-shaped, the captain's station and its monitors filled the narrow end of the chamber, while an assortment of astrogator and engineering stations filled the far wall. Entrances to the bridge were placed at right angles to this information axis. The space in the middle of the room was kept free for conferences and portable data stations. Except that presently the chamber was crowded with human and non-human mercenaries — all armed to the teeth.

Naja sat in her command chair, fingers tapping on a spectral keyboard. She watched the crowd of goons on one side surge away from the door, as Vyayla strode into the chamber. Ryoko, Mihoshi, and Kiyone followed behind docilely, followed by Breemmilie, who was assisting Blanim. At almost the same moment Cotan entered from the opposite door, drinking a restorative. He saw Ryoko and snarled.

Naja watched them merge with an amused twinkle in her eye. Her lieutenants formed a box around the hostages, while scores of armed mercenaries ringed them in completely. "Well, it seems you've run out of options, Ladies. I trust there will be no more heroics. Not only do you try my patience, but you've gone and injured two of my closest advisors. I cannot afford any more...activities...of this nature."

Ryoko was exchanging stares with Cotan and Blanim, then turned her gaze on Naja. "You can call off your dogs, Naja. We've had our fun."

"Dogs?" hissed Blanim. He started to reach for his energy sword, but was restrained by Breemmilie. Ryoko laughed derisively.

Mihoshi pointed her finger at Blanim's energy sword and coughed. The adept's sword started smoking. He yanked it off his belt and tried to activate it — and failed completely. His cursing ended with enraged sputters.

Kiyone stood with legs braced apart, arms crossed, head tilted to one side. "Gee, Naja, where _do_ you find these assistants of yours? As I recall, it was that lovestruck adept of yours that kidnapped our officer, and thus brought the GP and JI down on your head. Don't they have any discipline?"

Naja smiled and made a dismissive gesture. "There are always plenty of hot-headed young fools around, ready to make a name for themselves. One of those genetic flaws in our species, I suppose." She shrugged, the smile fading from her lips. "Despite your opinions of my lieutenants, the fact remains that they are here to enforce my will, and have an ample supply of armed assistants." She indicated the roomful of rifles pointing at them. "There will be no further escape attempts. One of you may succeed — but the others will die promptly, and be...disposed of...out the nearest airlock. Probably in body-bags, but in buckets if need be. No one can rescue you now!"

"Don't be too sure of that," Tenchi said.

**ACT 7**

_Where have all the good men gone  
And where are all the gods?  
Where's the street-wise Hercules  
To fight the rising odds?  
Isn't there a white knight  
Upon a firey steed?  
Late at night I toss and turn  
And I dream of what I need_

_I need a hero  
I'm holdin' out for a hero_  
'_Till the end of the night  
He's gotta be strong  
And he's got to be fast  
And he's got to be fresh from the fight  
I need a hero  
I'm holdin' out for a hero 'till the mornin' light  
He's gotta be sure  
And he's gotta be soon  
And he's gotta be larger than life  
Larger than life_

_Somewhere after midnight  
In my wildest fantasy  
Somewhere just beyond my reach  
There's someone reaching back for me  
Racing on the thunder  
And rising with the heat  
It's gonna take a Superman  
To sweep me off my feet_

_I need a hero  
I'm holdin' out for a hero_  
'_Till the end of the night  
He's gotta be strong  
And he's got to be fast  
And he's got to be fresh from the fight_

_I need a hero  
|I'm holdin' out for a hero 'til the mornin' light  
He's gotta be sure  
And he's gotta be soon  
And he's gotta be larger than life  
Larger than life _

_Up where the mountains meet the heavens above  
Out where the lightning splits the sea  
I would swear there's someone somewhere  
Watching me  
Through the wind and the chill and the rain  
And the storm and the flood  
I can feel his approach  
Like a fire in my blood_

_I need a hero  
I'm holdin' out for a hero_  
'_Till the end of the night  
He's gotta be strong  
And he's got to be fast  
And he's got to be fresh from the fight_

_I need a hero  
I'm holdin' out for a hero 'til the mornin' light  
He's gotta be sure  
And he's gotta be soon  
And he's gotta be larger than life  
Larger than life _

Title — "Holding Out For A Hero"  
Artist — Bonnie Tyler  
Written by — Jim Steinman & Dean Pitchford

Tenchi stood in one doorway to the bridge, the Lighthawk Wings pulsing gently above him like a Y-shaped halo. He was encased in iridescent armor, he carried the gleaming sword nestled comfortably in the crook of his left elbow, and the Emblem of Power glittered on his brow. The mercenaries around him promptly backpedaled as far as they could go while keeping their weapons trained upon him.

Tenchi ignored them.

_Tenchi - Greetings, Ladies_

Ryoko,Mihoshi,Kiyone - _We are so glad to see you!_

Tenchi_ - Things are about to happen, and I want you ready to leave_

Kiyone_ - What kinds of 'things' are about to happen?_

Tenchi_ - Trinnard and his associates are about to disable the power couplings at the reactor core_

Trinnard - _We need another two minutes, Sire. We've run into some difficulties_

Tenchi_ - Very well. We need a diversion. Any ideas?_

Ryoko_ - I have a great idea!_

Naja beckoned the emperor from her perch, and Tenchi slowly made his way into the chamber. "So, you found us after all. Doubtless you had help from that little cur Ryo-ohki."

"Yes, she led me right to you," Tenchi replied. He looked around, paying particular attention to the adepts restraining his family. "Frankly, Naja, this place isn't much better than your Manhattan office was. I expected better."

A wry smile wreathed her face. "Don't tell me the Emperor of Jurai is a materialist? For shame!"

"Tenchi, Dear," Ryoko called, "I have someone here who wants to meet you!"

Tenchi turned, affecting a very casual attitude. "Oh?"

"I'd like to introduce you to Cotan Shaygeron. He's an ardent admirer of mine, who has asked me to run away with him."

Cotan's reaction was masked behind the iron control of his features.

"He called you a lummox, and wants to issue you a Challenge. Go ahead, Cotan, now's your chance."

Cotan cleared his throat, forced into the confrontation to save face and his reputation. "She is correct, Your Majesty. I desire her, and am willing to resolve the matter in the traditional manner. Do you accept my Challenge?"

Tenchi - _This is your great idea?_

Ryoko_ - Well, you wanted a diversion..._

"Yes, I accept."

"Then prepare to die!" Cotan's forcefield shimmered into existence, and he launched a volley of protuberances straight at Tenchi's chest.

With his Power-enhanced speed and reflexes, Tenchi saw the danger and easily avoided it. Cotan growled in frustration and fury, and increased the assault by launching dozens of energy needles at Tenchi. Tenchi's body became a blur as he dodged all the attacks, each evasion moving him one step closer to his opponent. It didn't take long before he was standing directly beside Cotan, looking across the energy barrier at him. Before the assassin had a chance to reorient, Tenchi thrust the Lighthawk Sword straight into the forcefield. The shield flared once and collapsed. Cotan staggered backwards, fighting the shock to his nervous system. He never saw the sword arc high over Tenchi's right shoulder and then swing across the gap between them. Cotan's head fell off his shoulders and rolled roughly under the nearest console, his body dropping wetly to the deck.

"I keep my wife," Tenchi said to the corpse.

"I'm not done with her yet," Naja said. "But if you're still alive in a year, you can have her back then."

##########

Trinnard - _We're in place, Sire!_

Tenchi_ - Very good. On the count of 'three', disable the core_

Trinnard_ - With pleasure!_

Tenchi_ - Ladies, I am about to rattle this cage big time. At the count of 'three' hit the deck immediately. Then, Ryoko, I want you to get the others down to the hangar deck. Rendezvous with Trinnard and his people. Ryo-ohki is waiting there to ferry you all to safety_

Ryoko_ - What about you?_

Tenchi_ - I'll be right behind you. I have some business to attend to first_

Tenchi turned slowly to face Naja, his expression composed.

"Very impressive, boy, you didn't even raise a sweat. Your reputation doesn't do you justice."

"I'm glad you approve." He started walking slowly into the middle of the chamber.

Tenchi_ - One..._

"I know of several non-human adepts that might enjoy the opportunity to...test their mettle...against the greatest adept our race has to offer. You would do us all proud, I'm sure."

"The Emperor of Jurai as a gladiator?" Tenchi stopped when he was sure he was in the center of the chamber. Although he appeared to be considering Naja's vision, he was actually noting the distribution of her mercenaries — and the location of her lieutenants. He clamped a protective mind-shield on each of his wives.

Mihoshi_ - What...?_

Ryoko_ - Oh, this ought to be good!_

Tenchi_ - Two..._

"Admit it, Boy: you're a fighter! Wouldn't you like to be the undisputed master of the galaxy? I could arrange that, you know."

"I thought you wanted me and my family dead?"

"Eventually, yes. But a little...competitive entertainment...beforehand is acceptable."

"Like a cat playing with its prey. How considerate. And if I perished in the contests, well so much the better, eh? I'm afraid I must decline your invitation."

Tenchi_ - Three!_

Several events happened nearly simultaneously:

* The Lighthawk Wings hovering above Tenchi's head did a creditable imitation of a nova, and a globular concussion wave spread outwards at a speed in excess of 100 klicks an hour. Mihoshi, Kiyone and Ryoko dived for the floor, just as the wall of condensed air rolled over them and scattered mercenaries and furniture like a bomb blast. Ryoko grabbed onto Mihoshi's and Kiyone's arms and phased them all through the deck, after one last concerned glance at her husband.

* Naja's three remaining Power adepts, struggling to regain their feet, convulsed under Tenchi's fully-manifested Power envelope. Blanim curled into a ball and wet his pants, gibbering in absolute terror; Breemmilie and Vyayla fell to the floor, muscles locked and eyes wide open, panting like locomotives. Both females succumbed to an age-old imperative, turned towards Tenchi, and began to crawl forward — until they encountered each other. Vyayla grabbed Breemmilie's shoulder, shouting for her partner to Get-Lost-And-Leave-Him-Alone-He's-Mine! Breemmilie shoved her partner to the floor, Vyayla kicked her partner in the ribs, and they fell to exchanging blows.

* The main lighting flickered and died, and the battery back-up system kicked-in. The chamber was bathed in red emergency lighting, consoles and monitors shutting down indiscriminately, and the brightest light in the chamber was from the Lighthawk manifestations.

Naja was slammed into the bulkhead behind her, the wind knocked out of her lungs. She gasped, trying to recover her breath, trying to fight off the effects of Tenchi's Power envelope. Both objectives required a strenuous effort, and then she pulled herself forward to look at the chaos that her bridge had become. Broken bodies were piled everywhere, some moaning painfully. Her female lieutenants were rolling on the deck, locked in a loud violent struggle. Her surviving male lieutenant was catatonic and useless. Her hostages were gone. Her ship was helpless. And the greatest Power adept in human space was watching her coldly.

##########

The teleport jammer died with the lights, so Ryoko was now completely unhindered. Unfortunately, she had been unconscious when brought aboard, and so couldn't target the hangar deck. Instead, she flew herself and her partners down the length of the ship's main corridor, phasing through metal and flesh obstructions, until she located the hangar deck. It was a cavernous space filled with parked shuttles, and pitch black except for the scattered emergency lights. Even the air circulators had stopped pumping.

Ryoko lowered her partners to the deck, and felt a familiar tingle in her mind. "Ryo-ohki?"

The cabbit leaped out of the shadows and onto her shoulder, purring rhythmically.

"Yeah, I'm glad to see you, too. Thanks for bringing Tenchi to us." She would interrogate the cabbit's memory later, extracting all the details of her run to safety. For now, she was just glad to see her life-long Companion safe and sound.

She heard footsteps and turned to face the source, her energy sword gleaming brightly.

Trinnard and his friends entered from a side door at a dead run, battery-powered torches throwing cones of light ahead of them. "We've got company coming!" He paused in front of Kiyone, and they examined one another. "Any injuries?"

"Nope. You?"

"Nope. Later?"

"Later." They nodded to one another, satisfied.

Ryoko and Mihoshi couldn't resist exchanging grins. "True love, huh?" said the latter. The former chuckled.

"Mrrrrowwwr!" snarled the cabbit, rolling above the deck towards the outer bay doors. She was contorting and enlarging at a phenomenal rate, no longer recognizable as the quadrupedal creature of moments before. She phased through the bay door and kept expanding.

Footsteps could be heard from the corridor recently vacated by Trinnard and his associates. "We'd better get ready for our visitors," he growled.

They didn't have the chance. There was a shimmer as Ryo-ohki's teleport beam grabbed them all, and they vanished. The contingent of Naja's mercenaries that crept into the hangar deck a moment later found it completely deserted.

##########

Naja considered her options, calculating the success of her alternate plans, and reached a conclusion: abandon ship and try again later. She waved her hand and a dimensional doorway materialized a few steps away. She withdrew a small metal sphere from her robes, her thumb hovering over the single red button inset into its surface. She studied Tenchi casually. "You know, boy, I'm almost going to regret killing you. You're different from all of the other pampered and power-mad fools that have claimed the throne."

"How so?" Tenchi asked, canting his head slightly.

"You have dirty fingernails and a clean conscience. You have a spine, and a sense of morals. I haven't seen your like in the House of Jurai in thousands of years. Even if I let you live, you'll come to a bad end."

"Really?"

"Really. You'll fight the corruption until you're overwhelmed, and then take a lot of innocent people with you when you fall. Or else your unswerving honor will get you assassinated young."

"You're probably right," Tenchi admitted. "Tell me, why do you hate my family so much?"

Naja considered the question. "How much do you know about me?"

"Very little. Washu won't discuss you, and the records are incomplete. Probably biased, anyway."

"You _are_ good," she smiled. "Okay, boy, I'll swap information with you. I'll tell you about my past, and in exchange you tell me about the Lighthawk Wings. Deal?"

"Deal."

##########

Ryo-ohki fled from Naja's stricken ship at maximum speed. When asked why by Ryoko, she informed her mistress that it had been Tenchi's last instruction to her.

"Where are we going?" Kiyone asked.

Ryoko swiveled the pilot's chair around to face the group gazing at the wall-sized monitors. "We're going to rendezvous with Tsunami."

"I don't see her anywhere," Mihoshi said. "Wait! What's that?"

There was a shimmer in the blackness ahead, and a vessel decloaked. The great wooden tree ship, lights blazing, could be seen floating regally. And behind her was shattered remains of a GP cruiser.

Mihoshi's wrist alarm started beeping, and she flipped the switch to trigger the communicator. "Yukinojo?"

"Welcome back, Mihoshi. What's your status?"

"We're alive and well. What about you?"

"I have already begun essential repairs, and will contact the GP Sector Office once we have returned to Jurai."

Mihoshi breathed a sigh of relief.

Another shimmer appeared in the air beside Ryoko, and the projection solidified into a tall woman with long blue hair.

"Tsunami," Ryoko said.

"I see you are all uninjured. That is gratifying."

"Tenchi didn't come with us, though."

"He will join us shortly."

"Are you sure of that?" Mihoshi asked.

"Quite sure," the image replied.

##########

"What do you know about K1190?"

"It was a research station that was attacked by pirates. A lot of lives were lost. You were MIA and considered dead."

"K1190 was indeed a research station, established by the Juraian Royal Space Academy. I was the station manager, overseeing my own research as well as nearly 200 other projects. There were almost 1,800 people on-site; students and faculty, and many brought their families. There were so many children, in fact, that we had to set-up a small school for them. Almost all of them died in the attack."

"What has that to do with my family?"

Naja pursed her lips and paused, looking more like a scholar than a terrorist. "I've done a little bit of study about your homeworld. In the previous generation, a situation arose where two superpowers were engaged in a cultural fight for domination. They were too powerful for direct confrontation, so most of their battles were fought by proxy states."

"The Cold War," Tenchi replied.

Naja nodded. "The same situation has been repeated throughout human history, on larger and smaller scales. Each side donates weapons and advise to little piss-ant governments with a grudge against their neighbors, and then those fools flay one another into extinction. And the innocents get caught in the crossfire."

Tenchi said nothing.

"Your ancestor was directly responsible for shipping munitions to the local warlord, who decided to test his new toys on an unarmed research station. There were only a handful of survivors...there are _always_ survivors, of course...and the reigning emperor gave his blessing to the discreet disposal of all of the witnesses. We were a political liability, capable of raising wide scale condemnation. I was lucky enough to escape the first assassination attempt, and went into hiding. The others were not so lucky — except that Seto woman, who was blood-kin to the Royal Family. They bought her silence with a wedding ring." Naja snorted. "I swore an oath to avenge all those men, women, and children in my care. My care! And I let them down!" She stared at Tenchi with a cold fire in her eyes. "I won't rest until your family has been eradicated like the vermin they are."

"The House of Jurai has many branches. It won't go down quietly."

"Don't underestimate me, Boy. I can be very persistent. I'll get them all, sooner or later."

"Even Washu? She was your best friend, once upon a time. She's my wife, now, and our daughter bears the family name."

"She has chosen to reform the clan from within. I admire her for that, even though I think it's a wasted effort."

"You could help, you know. I would rather see someone of your caliber as my advisor, rather than my enemy."

She laughed derisively. "You couldn't trust me, boy. No one else would."

Now it was Tenchi's turn to laugh. "I don't trust anyone now, other than my family. Why should you be any different?"

Naja stared at him, her face an inscrutable mask, as she considered the temptation.

"Tell me," Tenchi asked softly, "at what point do your sins exceed those you accuse my ancestors of? Who will avenge the people _you've_ slain? You're just extending the cycle of retribution."

Naja's lips compressed into a tense line. "You killed my son."

"He was trying to kill me. He had kidnapped and assaulted the women I love, and had tried to scorch my homeworld. What would you have done?" Naja made no reply. "Did you know he had imprisoned Washu on the Souja for all those centuries?"

"No, I didn't know it. I might have made some effort at intervention if I had." She shrugged. "Kagato was rotten to the core. But I loved him, despite the venom in his veins."

It was Tenchi's turn to wear a noncommittal mask.

"Enough of my sad tale. What of the Lighthawk Wings?"

"What do you know about them?" Tenchi asked.

"You were born with certain genetic predispositions, and Tsunami showed you how to access them."

Tenchi grinned. "That had to come from Washu's private files — the part about Tsunami is not public information."

Naja shrugged. "Guilty as charged."

"It's generally thought that the wings are the ultimate personal defense system. The royal space trees can generate them, as do I. However, that's an inaccurate assumption."

"Oh?"

"They are merely tools for focusing thoughts and energies, nothing more. An expression of creation."

Naja was silent for several moments, lost in thought. "And the Lighthawk Sword?"

"A manifestation of the wings, like the armor. In essence, the wings are like lumps of clay, to be molded and partitioned and shaped into whatever form the artist desires. The final goal is expanding the mental capacities of the adept."

"And the source for your Power? You're far too strong for most artificial or environmental sources."

"The quantum vacuum," he replied.

"Gods..." she muttered. "No wonder you're so damn potent." Now she understood why she had not been able to generate shields that would cut him off from his energy source — his source was omnipresent. And it explained why her son had been bested by a teenage boy. "How old are you?"

"Almost 25," he replied.

She cursed under her breath. Most adepts didn't fully mature until well into their 50's; if he was this powerful at 25, what would he be like in 30 years? Washu was absolutely right to grab this one, damn her. That pretty much settled the issue in her mind. "Now I'm sure you have to die, boy. Nothing personal, but I can't let your DNA filter into the next generation. You and your offspring will keep a stranglehold on the empire forever. I can't allow that."

"My offer still stands," he said quietly. He didn't move, simply watched her with a sad expression.

She hesitated, and the fire in her eyes cooled. "I wish we'd met under different circumstances, Your Majesty. I think there's much we'd have taught each other." Her regrets were softly spoken, and her aged face seemed more haggard than ever. But it lasted only a moment, and then her voice hardened. "Give my regards to Washu."

She pressed the single stud on the sphere in her hand and tossed it onto a nearby console. She started hobbling towards the dimensional doorway.

"I can't let you leave, Naja," Tenchi said.

She stopped, sighed deeply, and turned to face him. "I just started the timer on this station's autodestruct. You have about two-and-a-half minutes before everything for 10,000 klicks around turns to very hot plasma. Now, you can either let me go, you can kill me, or we can stand here debating until we're both dead."

Tenchi nodded. If he let her enter the portal, he would be subjecting his family to all manner of threats for many years to come — and statically some of them were bound to succeed. His family would die by inches. That didn't even count the terrorist actions she would commit, and the greater loss of life that entailed. Killing her would be more execution that murder, since she had already admitted to her crimes on numerous occasions. It was a distasteful choice.

But he knew his duty, to his family and to his realm, no matter how distasteful it might be.

"What's it going to be, boy? Free me or kill me." She stepped towards the portal, a satisfied smug on her face.

Tenchi opened the mind-link with her, dreading the next few moments. To his heightened senses her mind appeared as an amorphous fog that extended well beyond her body. He ignored the image, forcing Power down the link and directly into her autonomic nervous system.

The seizure he initiated caused her to black-out instantly, so she never felt her vital systems collapse like dominoes. Her chest muscles constricted, compressing her diaphragm and causing immediate suffocation. Her heart suffered ventricular fibrillation, and it ceased pumping. She relinquished control of her bladder, emptying the contents onto her robes. Her head snapped backwards in a silent scream, her knees buckling under the assault, fists clenched into rigidity. She hit the floor with a _thud_, quivering and convulsing. Her cane clattered to the floor next to her shaking body. Tenchi continued to apply Power until he was reasonably sure that her life had been extinguished.

He gestured, and a ball of blue-white light appeared around her body, lifting it off the floor and straightening her limbs. The Lighthawk Wings above him elongated and descended, forming a cocoon. Both Power constructs hovered for a moment before phasing through the bulkhead and accelerating away from the ship.

Behind him, the timer concluded its countdown and issued commands to the ship's reactor core.

##########

Ryoko was watching the monitor screens scattered about Ryo-ohki's command deck, waiting for some sign of her husband. She was unprepared for the sudden flare in the sky. "What the hell?"

"Naja's ship just blew up!" Kiyone exclaimed.

Mihoshi and Ryoko exchanged worried looks. "Where's Tenchi?" the former asked.

"He is unharmed," Tsunami replied. "He is approaching even now."

It was true: they soon recognized the twin spheres racing toward them at an incredible velocity. Tenchi could transit across realspace at near-relativistic speeds, but even he could not outrun the lightspeed flash when Naja's vessel exploded. Behind him a fireball was seen to be swelling like an incandescent blister, spitting radioactive debris and detritus into the interstellar emptiness.

He passed them without stopping, barreling into the endless night towards the distant stars. Ryo-ohki and Tsunami (still towing the shattered Yukinojo) were soon racing after him.

**EPILOGUE**

Title — "Ding-Dong! The Witch Is Dead," Part I

_Ding Dong! The Witch is dead. Which old Witch? The Wicked Witch!  
Ding Dong! The Wicked Witch is dead.  
Wake up — sleepy head, rub your eyes, get out of bed.  
Wake up, the Wicked Witch is dead. She's gone where the goblins go,  
Below — below — below. Yo-ho, let's open up and sing and ring the bells out.  
Ding Dong' the merry-oh, sing it high, sing it low.  
Let them know  
The Wicked Witch is dead!_

Title — "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead," Part II

_As Mayor of the Munchkin City, in the County of the Land of Oz, I welcome you most regally.  
But we've got to verify it legally, to see;  
To see?  
If she,  
If she?  
Is morally, ethic'lly,  
Spiritually, physically,  
Positively, absolutely,  
Undeniably and reliably Dead!_

_As Coroner I must aver, I thoroughly examined her. And she's not only merely dead, she's really most sincerely dead.  
Then this is a day of Independence for all the Munchkins and their descendants!  
If any!  
Yes, let the joyous news be spread that the Wicked Old Witch at last IS dead!_

Music by — Harold Arlen (b. Hyman Arluck)  
Lyrics by — E. Yip Harburg (Edgar Yipsel H.)  
From the Film — The Wizard Of Oz" 1939

Tenchi and his ladies stood in the common room, clustered into one corner near the cribs where Achika and Azusa slept. One crib quivered, and Tenchi looked down at his daughter. He scooped her up gently and placed her on his shoulder. She fidgeted for a few seconds before drifting back to sleep. His son slept soundly in the other crib.

Floating in the other corner was the luminescent bier that contained Naja Akara's body. Washu regarded the glowing sphere with an unreadable expression. "We were friends, you know? Partners. We complimented one another. I based my research on intuition and flashes of brilliance; she preferred to work through all the details with dogged determination. We always reached the same conclusions, and confirmed one another's' results. We made a great team."

"The Naja you knew died a long time ago," Tenchi said.

"I know," Washu nodded. "We didn't talk to one another until after Kagato's death. I never blamed her for Kagato, and she never apologized for him. Her loathing for the Royal Family was too ingrained to be reasoned with, and when I married you..." Washu shook her head sadly. "In the end we had drifted too far apart." She placed her hand on his arm and gestured towards the portal to her lab. "Still, she was pretty clever. This might not be the real Naja. I need to run some tests."

The portal opened, and she stepped through it, followed by Tenchi and Naja.

The others watched them leave, then looked at one another.

Ryoko cleared her throat. "Ayeka, can we talk?"

##########

Washu's lab never seemed to change. But the lights seemed cold and somber, and the machinery sung to each other with an indifferent rumble. Tenchi instructed the ball of blue-white light to deposit Naja's body on the biobed. He dispersed the Powerball, and its absence left that corner of the lab in semi-gloom.

Washu walked slowly to stand over the corpse, then activated a series of sensors and instruments that probed the body in great detail. After several minutes, they settled into inactivity, and she turned them off one-by-one. "Yes, it's definitely Naja. It's not a clone, and it's not an android. This is...was... Naja Akara."

"I'm sorry, Washu."

"It's okay, Tenchi. You did the right thing. How did she...?"

"It was as quick and painless as I could make it." Tenchi offered no details, and Washu asked for none. He turned to go.

"Tenchi? Would you leave Achika here with me?"

"Why?" he asked, puzzled by the request.

"Because, I need to hold a piece of my future while I say goodbye to a piece of my past."

Without another word, Tenchi placed his sleeping daughter on her mother's shoulder, backed away soundlessly, and exited through the portal.

##########

Tenchi was surprised to find Ryoko and Mihoshi waiting for him, their faces wreathed with conspiratorial smiles. Behind them Ayeka sat on one of the sofas, a smirk on her face. Sasami sat beside her, a grin stretched from ear-to-ear.

"Uh, what now?" he asked.

"Well, lover, Mihoshi and I had this long talk on the out-bound leg of our recent adventure," Ryoko said. "And it seems we have certain goals in common."

"We sure do," Mihoshi replied. "And it seems that _you_ figure prominently in them."

Tenchi groaned, shoulders slumping. "Oh, no..."

"Oh, come now, Beloved," Ayeka said, "it can't be as bad as all that."

Ryoko and Mihoshi stepped forward and glomped onto their husband, cackling with anticipation.

Tenchi turned a surprised expression on each, and then on Ayeka, who continued to smirk at him. "You aren't contesting this?"

Ayeka shook her head, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "We struck a bargain: they get you tonight, and tomorrow the normal schedule resumes — with _my_ week first in the rotation."

"Time's wasting, eh, Mihoshi?" Ryoko leered.

"Sure is," Mihoshi leered back.

"Shall we begin with that zero-gravity experiment?"

"Absolutely!"

"Oh, God," Tenchi managed to say, before Ryoko teleported them away.

Ayeka and Sasami exchanged chuckles, Ayeka's thoughts turning expectantly to her bedpost manacles, and Sasami's imagination painting a vivid picture of the events transpiring in Mihoshi's suite.

**#################### Author's Notes ####################**

The title of this story is derived from the Japanese concepts of "gimu" (legalistic duty), "giri" (social or status obligation), and "on" (personal, often overarching obligation). To discharge a debt requires an individual to accept ethical and social constraints, as well as perseverance and personal responsibility. Debts travel many directions, weaving an unbreakable spiderweb: Emperor subjects, boss employees, parents children, friend friend, friend enemy, etc. And some debts can simply never be repaid, increasing in scope with the passage of time.

"Like A Prayer" was written by Madonna and Patrick Leonard. You are free to substitute any piece of music you choose, naturally, but I found this tune to be quite appropriate for the setting. After all, Ryoko being who she is, and the lyrics being full of double entendres, and a few of the phrases being applicable to her abilities...

On the subject of applying environmental sounds when building a certain mindset, I would refer you to "Sound & Fury: Auditory Elements in Martial Ritual" by John J. Donohue, Ph.D., Journal Of Asian Martial Arts, Volume 9, Number 4. It is a discussion of how sounds and music can be applied in martial training as well as on the battlefield, and the author looks at examples from Europe and Japan. Quite interesting.

If you would like further information about the nature of quantum patterns, or you just want to understand what they are, I highly recommend reading The Holographic Universe by Michael Talbot, Harper Perennial, 1992, ISBN 0-06-092258-3, or the writings of physicist Jack Sarfatti and colleagues at (but you'd better have more than a nodding acquaintance with physics to follow some of their discussions).

My source material about the history of Naja Akara is based upon the "Tenchi Muyo In Depth Alternate Universes" website. I was in the middle of writing this story when John Takis posted "Washu's Lullaby" to the TMFFA website. An excellent read, highly recommended. He had access to much more detail than I had available, and rather than try to rewrite what I had, I decided to push ahead — and chalk-up the discrepancies as yet another example of the variety and inconsistencies of the Tenchiverse.

For a visual reference of Tenchi's high-speed combat motions, I recommend watching Keanu Reeves in The Matrix, Jet Li in The One, or even the Flash on Cartoon Network's The Justice League.

The characters of Tenchi Muyo were created by Masaki Kajashima, and brought to North America by Pioneer LDC. This story, while incorporating names and situations held under copyright by others, is copyright 2002 by Jeffery L. Harris.

This story comes entirely from my imagination, and is not, nor intended to be, canon. Please do not send the legions of lawyers after me...it's not worth their time, or mine.

Any questions or comments should be directed to:

Jeffery L Harris  
Subject: "The Chains of Our Commitments"


	8. EPISODE 7  Hitoribotchi no yoru

**ACT 1**

_Mad is the captain of Alpha Centauri  
We must be out of our minds  
Still we are shipmates bound for tomorrow  
And everyone here's flying blind_

_Oh, we must believe in magic  
We must believe in the guiding hand  
If you believe in magic  
You'll have the universe at your command_

_Mad is the crew bound for Alpha Centauri  
Dreamers and poets and clowns  
Bold is the ship bound for Alpha Centauri  
Nothing can turn it around_

_Oh, we must believe in magic  
We must believe in the guiding hand  
If you believe in magic  
You'll have the universe at your command_

_La-la-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da  
La-da-da-da-da-da-da  
La-la-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da  
La-da-da-da-da-da-da_

_Oh, we must believe in magic  
We must believe in the guiding hand  
If you believe in magic  
You'll have the universe at your command_

_La-la-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da  
La-da-da-da-da-da-da  
La-la-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da  
La-da-da-da-da-da-da_

_Oh, we must believe in magic  
We must believe in the guiding hand  
If you believe in magic  
You'll have the universe at your command_

Artist — Crystal Gayle  
Title — "We Must Believe In Magic

**SCENE 1**

The Galaxy Police District Office was an imposing building, meant to exhibit a staid and conservative image no matter what culture it happened to be doing business with. The outside of the structure was featureless and bereft of decoration. The inside was no different: a central atrium with a few plants and elevators, some graphics hung on the walls, small islands of Spartan furniture, and several drab corridors leading off into the recesses of the building.

The Emperor of Jurai happened to be present because his wife (a Detective Captain in the GP) had a meeting to attend, and being very pregnant she had wheedled and whined until her husband had consented to escort her. Mihoshi had deposited Tenchi in the lobby along with his security detail, with a promise to return "in a few minutes."

The Emperor's personal bodyguard "Whuffed!" loudly into a chair. She, too, was very pregnant, and commented sarcastically about dumping the Emperor of Jurai in a lobby rather than in a private office. Tenchi commented that he didn't mind, since Mihoshi's office was smaller than the common room at home, and this way he could stretch his legs. Ryoko marveled again at her husband's patience and _sagged_, glad to be sitting (she was forbidden to user her Power attributes during her pregnancy, and she preferred to walk anyway since Ayeka had described a hovering, pregnant Ryoko as a dirigible). The remainder of the Emperor's security detail quietly scattered about the atrium, examining everyone and everything. The building's occupants and visitors all recognized the Emperor and maintained a respectful distance.

Tenchi really didn't mind waiting. Truth be told, he was just glad to be out and away from the Palace for a while. He strolled about the atrium, looking at the various artworks hung on the walls. One in particular caught his eye, and he stopped to study it.

The graphic was a series of political maps layered over a computer-generated model of the Milky Way galaxy. The galaxy resembled a spiral-shaped tree, with four main branches extending outwards from the egg-shaped trunk. Each branch coiled around the core for nearly one-quarter of the circumference, before dividing into spurs and smaller fragments. Star clouds and nebulae and great swaths of luminescent matter clumped together like so many leaves on the gently curving limbs. And all across the great model not a solid edge was visible; the entire structure was amorphous and diffuse, with the arms feathering into the voids between one another.

Most of the model was unlabelled; what was presented in detail was a pie-sliced wedge extending from the core to the bottom edge. The highlighted area centered on the Empire of Jurai, and was replete with astronomical terms defining general astrophysical structures. The Empire occupied one minor segment in the center of the wedge, what Terran star charts would call the Orion Spur. But minor is a relative term on a galactic scale: the Spur was 15,000 light years long and 2500 light years thick, separated from the neighboring Sagittarius (core-ward) and Perseus (rim-ward) arms by voids 5000 light years across. Contained within the caterpillar-shaped volume of space were approximately 156,000,000 suns.

Tenchi had learned by now that sheer numbers were deceiving. For instance, of the myriad star systems, less than one in ten thousand contained anything of real value:

*** Urban Worlds:** These planets were slowly being converted to human hives, as individual cities merged into one giant megalopolis. The buildings often reached a kilometer above and below the planet's surface, and covered every landmass available. Over time they tended to rely heavily upon imported food and raw materials, as their own natural resources dwindled and were reduced to protected enclaves. Sector capitols like Jurai and Seniwa were typical of this type.

***** **Manufacturing Worlds:** These planets tended to be on the inhospitable side, but rich in raw materials. They were festooned with automated mining and assembly complexes, and sparsely populated. They were usually considered commercial property and treated accordingly.

*** Rural Worlds:** Covered in continental-sized tracts of arable land, these planets were devoted to grain and livestock farming on a global scale. And like the manufacturing worlds, they were heavily invested with automated agricultural complexes, and sparsely populated. And also like the manufacturing worlds, these planets were regarded as private property.

*** Regressed Worlds:** Many of the planets colonized in the distant past suffered from natural or man-made cataclysms. Contact with the Empire had been cut-off, with a corresponding breakdown in technology. Civilization on these planets devolved to a point somewhere between the Iron Age and the Stone Age. It was generally not cost-effective (or humane, in some cases) to reeducate a former colony until they were ready to reestablish contact. Earth was typical of this type.

*** Research Worlds:** Environmentally-speaking, these worlds were either barren, boring or lethal, and were considered safe places to conduct risky genetic or toxic industrial research. There were usually a small number of scientists and military personnel living in environmentally secure outposts. K1190 was typical of this type.

*** Miscellaneous Habitats:** A wide assortment of astronomical research stations, commercial trading posts, and unspecified habitats located in asteroid belts and moons. Those registered and permitted by the Empire were usually included in the navy's patrol routes, under the watchful eye of local garrisons and strike bases. Socially speaking, the Juraian Empire was a pretty mixed bag. At first glance, one would assume it to be a homogenous culture spread evenly and equally across thousands of worlds, ruled by the Imperial family from Jurai. Scratch the surface, however, and that image rapidly dissolved.

Humanity's true origin was, frankly, unknown for sure and hotly contested. Approximately 53,000 years before Tenchi's birth, a full half-dozen centers of human population were expanding outwards in a wave of exploration and colonization. Naturally, these societies bumped into one another, and just as naturally a series of wars broke out as they contested for dominance. It was a long, adventurous, bloody period of human history. But when the dust settled, Jurai was the largest and strongest government, surrounded by a host of smaller and weaker neighbors who were permitted to exist as buffer states. The situation had not changed much in the last few thousand years.

Jurai owed its stability to the simple fact that it allowed it subject planets autonomous government (within reason). As long as they observed the Three Imperial 'C's — Calendar, Coinage, and Courts — they were left alone. This made for a wide variety of political representation to the Imperial Senate: a monarchist could easily be seated next to a theocrat or a fascist. The Imperial Senate would, in turn, represent the voice of the Juraian citizenry to the Imperial Family, and would receive the Imperial Mandate in return. This attitude extended to the full array of human settlements, whether millennia-old societies on the legacy worlds, or company-owned villages on the mining and construction planets. The Empire took a dim view of exploitation of sentients, and this was a cause for much internal strife (particularly on worlds with long-ingrained caste systems). The humanitarian concern expressed was genuine, but tended to mask the more pragmatic concern that oppressed sentients tended to start revolts. The Empire took an even dimmer view of revolts.

However, anything at all to do with interstellar activities fell under the direct control of the Imperium. The navy patrolled the star lanes and enforced the peace — and the merchant guilds were mighty glad that they did. Most wealth within the Empire was generated by interstellar trade, and without the constabulary presence of the Imperial Navy, the pirate infestations and crime cartels would escalate from minor nuisance to major threat. The Empire taxed the merchant guilds, maintained the treaties, and generally kept the wheels of commerce running as smoothly as possible. All Imperial business was enacted using the Juraian language, regardless of whatever local dialects were employed for the day-to-day running of each planet. Every citizen was encouraged to learn it — and required to if he/she/it had any business with an Imperial organization.

Imperial levies funded a number of organizations and services, such as the Galaxy University and various disaster relief organizations. These organizations tended to be notionally apolitical or blatantly loyalist in their leanings. The levies also funded the military, which was ever-alert for unpredictable predations by species from neighboring galactic arms (such as the K'vimm Incursion of recent memory). The military recruited from across the entire spectrum of subject worlds, promoted by meritocracy, and was more-or-less regarded favorably by the Juraian citizenry. Overall, Imperial taxes were kept on the light side (except during emergencies), because the Imperial government had learned the hard way that excessive taxation leads to unhappy sentients, which leads to revolts. And the Empire took a very dim view of revolts.

But the Juraian citizenry were wholeheartedly behind the Imperial family. The Juraian citizenry...now there was a colorful lot. Given that humanity had been dispersing across hundreds of planetary environments for tens of thousands of years, and had dabbled in genetic engineering to some extent over that whole period, diversity was inevitable. There was no such thing as a pure human anymore; the species had been mongrelized. Millennia of genetic enhancement had given the average Juraian citizen the ability to consciously control his/her own fertility, to regenerate lost limbs and organs, live extended life spans, and successfully fight off disease. The same genetic tinkering had also raised the latent psionic capabilities of the race as a whole, and now a sizeable percentage of the population had become Power adepts. (The Imperial Family itself had set the tone early on: the records weren't clear if the dynasty's founders were Psykers themselves, or shrewd enough to recognize the trends and quickly infused the bloodline with Psyker DNA.) Tenchi's family was a microcosm of his empire.

Then there were the artificial intelligence communities, and the few non-human native sapient races, and the endless supply of visiting aliens from outside the Empire...

And every last one of them recognized the ultimate authority of the crown. Even though this hereditary monarchy had behaved less than ideally across its long history, it was perceived as being generally benign and a very useful focal point for the tens of trillions of sentients scattered across 94,000,000,000 cubic light years. All the pomp and pageantry and power, all the majesty of the Imperium, were personified by the occupant of the Juraian throne: Tenchi Masaki Jurai.

Tenchi sighed, feeling the weight of the crown and the responsibilities that went with it.

He felt fingers slip gently around his elbow, and strands of cyan hair tumbled onto his shoulder. "Whatcha lookin' at, Sweetie?"

"This map," Tenchi replied. "It's things like this that make me realize just how big the Empire really is."

Ryoko nodded silently.

"How much of it have you seen?" Tenchi asked.

"Most of the Empire's dirty little corners," she replied. "We never ventured too close to the high-traffic areas." 'We' meant her and Kagato, back in the Bad Old Days. She shuddered involuntarily as the memories tried to surface. "We even ventured outside the Empire once or twice, into the neighboring galactic arms. It's a large, lonely galaxy, Tenchi. But there are some really beautiful places in it. I'd love to take you on a tour sometime."

"Funny, I've been thinking about that subject quite a bit lately." He looked into Ryoko's golden eyes. "I rule all this area, and I've only seen one small part of it. We should start planning some kind of tour."

"Sounds fun. We might be gone for quite a while, though...it takes weeks just to reach the frontier from here."

"It might not take as long as you think," he replied. He ignored her quizzical expression, pointing instead to the mostly-blank region on the map. "What's in the rest of this area?"

"I don't know. Mihoshi could tell you, since the GP would have recent info. Or Washu probably could."

"I could tell you what?" Mihoshi asked, waddling up to them in her GP-issue regulation maternity uniform. She latched onto Tenchi's free elbow, her long golden locks spilling across their arms.

"What the rest of the galaxy is like," Ryoko replied.

Mihoshi gave the map a cursory inspection. "This thing is nearly fifty years old," she announced. "There won't be many physical changes, but there have been some definite political ones."

"Care to elaborate?" Tenchi asked.

Mihoshi grinned. "The last stats I saw were over a year ago, but..."

* The galaxy is approximately 120,000 light years in diameter.

* It contains approximately one hundred billion star systems, though the majority of stars are in binary or multiple systems.

* There are approximately two million intelligent species spread across fourteen million inhabited star systems, or on the order of 94 quadrillion sapients.

* There are approximately 19,000 interstellar governments at any given time, and millions of individual planetary governments.

* Jurai is among a minority of nations that are populated only by a handful of races tied together by a single government.

"You sure use 'approximately' a lot," Ryoko observed.

"You have to," Mihoshi shrugged. "Everything changes constantly. Even the cartography; since the stars are orbiting the center, Jurai gains and loses a few annually. That's a cause for war in some places, even though there's nothing anyone can do about it."

"I'm glad I don't have to worry about such stuff," Ryoko replied.

"I guess that's my job, huh?" Tenchi muttered.

"And you do it so well!" his wives chorused, giving his arms an encouraging hug.

"Do you think anyone authority will ever unite the whole galaxy?" Tenchi asked.

"Not willingly," Ryoko replied.

"Maybe in common defense," Mihoshi added.

"All those different races, and all those different nations...it seems impossible."

"Nothing is impossible," Mihoshi replied. "You've proven that."

"And if any one person could unite them all, it would be you," Ryoko added.

Tenchi just shook his head skeptically.

**SCENE 2**

Funaho entered the common room of the residential quarters, expecting to find her family. The room was empty; in fact, the whole wing of the Palace was deserted. She eventually wandered out onto the Veranda, and followed the voices until she located them. Sasami was seated at a small table, engrossed in her studies; Misaki and Ayeka were seated at another table, discussing the latter's crowded itinerary; and Ryoko and Mihoshi were settled on adjacent benches, watching Tenchi's children and comparing swollen feet, leg cramps, varicose veins, back pain, heartburn, and recent cravings. There was no sign of Tenchi or Washu.

Funaho answered their greetings with a question: "Where is Tenchi?"

Everyone pointed out on the lawn, where Tenchi could be seen kneeling on a blanket. Flanking him were Washu and Tsunami.

"What are they doing out there?"

"I have no idea," Ayeka replied, pulling one of her ponytails aside to massage her neck. "But they expressly asked us not to intrude."

"Well, I wanted to tell him that I just received a communiqué from Earth, and Yosho has departed for Jurai. He should arrive within the week."

"Oh, that _is_ good news!" Ayeka said. "I'm sure he'll be most pleased to hear it."

"Then I'm sure he won't mind being interrupted," Funaho said, and so proceeded down the steps and onto the lawn. The other women exchanged glances and shrugs, scooped up the kids, and followed.

##########

"The body is all in the mind, but the mind is not all in the body," Tsunami said softly. She wasn't physically present, but the holographic image she projected was of a beautiful blue-haired woman kneeling gracefully beside him. Washu sat tailor-fashion with her spectral keyboard hovering above her lap, her mane of spiky red locks shading her face. An assortment of small instruments lay scattered around the blanket, trained on the Emperor.

"I know," Tenchi replied absently, "I've seen how the mind extends beyond the body." His eyes were closed and his attention focused inward.

"But you haven't seen the full extent," Tsunami countered. "The mind touches many levels of reality. Recall the analogy of the building and the courtyard."

"The mind is like a building, with many windows facing onto a courtyard containing a fountain," Tenchi recited. "The ground-level windows are close enough to the fountain to see small details. But as you move to higher levels, your perspective changes. You see the broader picture."

"Yes. But just how high does the building rise?"

"I...don't know," he answered haltingly. "I never thought about it."

"Construct the image in your mind, Tenchi. Then place yourself on the lowest level." After a short pause, Tenchi nodded. "Now start rising, one level at a time."

The fountain in Tenchi's mind began to recede, as his 'elevation' increased. "When should I stop?"

"Don't stop. Climb as high as you can."

The fountain dwindled to a speck, and then vanished entirely. Yet the building continued to climb inexorably above him. "I've lost the fountain," Tenchi said, "it's too far away."

"Very good. That was a simple image; let's try something more substantial. Place your awareness so that you can you see your body."

Tenchi shifted his mental viewpoint, focusing his enhanced perceptions out and above his body. He clearly saw the blanket and the three figures on it. "Ok."

"Now pull away. But remember, you are still firmly anchored here."

It was good advice. Rising higher and farther, he felt a momentary fear that he might drift too far. But since he still felt the weight of his body pressing into the blanket, he knew he could return in the blink of an eye. So he allowed the process to continue, watching as the rest of his family moved off the veranda. Then the palace as a whole was visible, and soon the outlying grounds. Before long the entire island was visible, populated by toy buildings and four-limbed specks. His awareness continued to expand.

##########

Washu heard them coming and swiveled about, a finger placed to her lips. The expression on her face was more of a command than a request.

"It's ok, Washu, I know they are there," Tenchi said without opening his eyes are turning around.

"What do you want?" Washu asked them, irritated.

"I've come to tell Tenchi that his grandfather has left Earth and is on his way here," Funaho answered.

"Thank you, Funaho," Tenchi replied. He gave no indications that he had seen Washu's scowl. "Please have a seat, ladies, this won't take long."

The women settled into the grass, curious.

"What do you see now?" Tsunami asked.

"The whole continent."

"As your perception expands, the separation between distant locations diminishes. You can fold them together in your mind like opposite ends of a paper sheet. Try it."

The Lighthawk Wings appeared in the air above Tenchi. They pulsed quietly for a moment before altering their normal Y-shaped configuration, merging into one large wing. This object drifted to the ground a few meters away from the blanket, expanding at the edges until it became a lens-shaped disk.

"What is that?" Ryoko asked.

"A dimensional doorway," Washu replied, looking over her shoulder and baring a triumphant smile. There were astonished gasps from the family. "Why so surprised? If Naja Akara could do it, why shouldn't he?"

"Didn't she require mechanical augmentation?" Funaho asked.

"Yes, but Tenchi doesn't," Washu answered proudly. "We've been working on this for months. Impressive, isn't it?"

They all nodded.

"Where does that doorway lead, Tenchi?" Ayeka asked.

"To a beach on the western ocean." Without another word, Tenchi rose and walked towards the doorway. After a slight hesitation, he stepped through it. He emerged a few moments later, carrying two small seashells. He retraced his footsteps, walking past Washu and Tsunami and up to his family. He gave the shells to his children, who squealed appreciatively. Tenchi returned to the blanket, standing quietly between Tsunami and Washu.

"That is a very limited connection," Tsunami said. "Why don't you try connecting points much farther apart, employing _all_ of your Power?"

Tenchi considered the idea for a moment, then nodded. With a gesture the doorway dissolved. He teleported to the far end of the lawn, appearing on a rise a safe distance from his family. He stood for a while staring vacantly into space, motionless. Then the wings materialized above him, growing incandescent and engorged, and his family felt the tug of his unbridled Power attributes. Before long the wings merged into another disk, the new doorway drifting downwards to touch the grass.

Tenchi stepped though the doorway and vanished.

Seconds stretched into a minute, and then into several minutes. His family began exchanging nervous comments, but neither Tsunami nor Washu seemed concerned. The doorway continued to pulse quietly.

Tenchi returned suddenly, appearing through the doorway as though parting a curtain. He gestured and the doorway disappeared. He teleported back to the blanket. In his hands he carried a small bouquet of flowers, wrapped in a pink ribbon with small bells on the bow.

"Where did you get those?" Mihoshi asked.

"From my mother's grave," Tenchi replied slowly.

There was open-mouthed amazement from everyone present. Finally, Ayeka managed to sputter, "Tenchi, do you know how many _light years_ Earth is from Jurai?"

"Yes, I know. Amazing, isn't it? Distance is meaningless beyond time and space." He fiddled quietly with the flowers, then walked off towards the gardens and the small shrine they contained.

"Geez, he's starting to creep me out," Ryoko said.

"Relax, Ryoko," Washu replied. "It's difficult to put into words a concept that is beyond words. Mystics and philosophers have been trying for thousands of years, and haven't had much success. Could you describe the color red to someone born blind?"

**SCENE 3**

As a general rule, recommissioning ceremonies for Imperial Navy vessels rarely warranted the presence of a celebrity (that kind of attention being reserved for brand new capitol ships). However, the IJN Attakiassa was no ordinary destroyer: she had a radical new realspace driver installed — one devised and prototyped by members of the Imperial family. Full field trials would determine if the new engine would be distributed throughout the fleet. For the admiralty, success meant a lot of money and politics to be doled-out to supplicating contractors; for the crew, which meant a plum assignment with lots of prestige and almost certain promotion. The behind-the-scenes brawl waged by competing factions was so large and dirty that rumors of it actually leaked to the media. And the media had long memories. Thus, when the navy released its plans for a _modest_ recommissioning ceremony, it was publicly pilloried. The navy's Department of Public Affairs (ever vigilant for a chance to increase its own influence) promptly inflated the ceremony's priority and scope, casting about for the ideal celebrity to build the ceremony around. And it took practically no time at all to discard the usual set of actors and sports figures when it was discovered that the Emperor himself (assisted by his scientific genius wife) was responsible for the new engine. Why not shoot for the pinnacle and invite the Royal Family? And that also meant that the usual flock of paparazzi and social remora would trail along, all following a well-planned script to make the Navy look good.

Empress Ayeka had discussed the invitation with her privy councilor (her mother), and having reviewed the implications and benefits had recommended that they accept. Empress Washu received the same invitation (she had _built_ the prototype, after all — and held all the patents on it), and had expressed an interest in seeing the final product. They coordinated their schedules with Tenchi's privy councilor (Baroness Paravaffri Velayuthemy, aka, 'the Iron Inquisitor'), who completed the link to the Emperor. Tenchi had consented readily enough.

Thus, after several months of waiting, the Emperor and his family (some of it, anyway) had been escorted onto the Fleet Admiral's private launch for a ceremonial shuffle from the Admiralty to the space dock facilities in high orbit above Jurai's largest moon. Since it was actually too large to fit into the destroyer's hangar deck, the launch was required to maneuver alongside the IJN Attakiassa and dock with one of the larger personnel ports. Matching seals and synching internal gravity and atmospherics was accomplished smoothly, and the launch's passengers were ushered aboard the warship without incident.

Tenchi stepped though the hatch and was immediately greeted by recorded music and the unmistakable sound of bodies snapping to attention and bowing. He moved aside to allow Ryoko, Washu, Ayeka, and Misaki to join him. The main corridor was crowded, even though normal ship's traffic had been diverted away. There was the obligatory honor guard, the ship's officers, a collection of civilians (mostly media), and one very familiar face.

Rear Admiral Kowis Mobinita grinned. "Welcome aboard, Your Majesties."

"Admiral Mobinita! What a pleasant surprise," Tenchi responded. Tenchi's wives made similar expressions; Admiral Mobinita had commanded the task force that had shadowed Prince Tenchi during his last trip back to Earth — and had then been tasked with counterattacking the K'vimm. "I didn't realize that you were part of this project."

"Yes, Your Majesty. I will be coordinating the field trials, and then the initial combat simulations when the new torpedoes are delivered." Mobinita gestured to the man standing next to him. "May I present the commanding officer of the Attakiassa, Captain Sir Noniel Jelham."

Captain Jelham bowed smartly. The CO of the destroyer was a man with a very dark complexion and jet-black tightly coiled hair tinged gray at the edges. His moon-shaped face was dominated by his eyes, which were clear and quick. His once-muscular physique was slowly yielding to middle-aged spread, but his posture was still ramrod straight. He wore a small collection of service ribbons on his left breast, and the same medallion of knighthood that Tenchi wore. "Your Majesty."

Tenchi returned the courtesy: "And may I present my family: Empress Ryoko, Empress Ayeka, Empress Washu, and Retired Empress Misaki Jurai." Jelham bowed smartly to each of the ladies — until his eyes locked with Misaki's, and then he hesitated for the briefest interval. Tenchi was mildly surprised; not by the Captain's pause, but by the fact his mother-in-law mirrored it.

Washu noticed as well, and cleared her throat theatrically. "Isn't it a bit unusual to post a captain to a destroyer?" she asked Mobinita. "I thought the position was always filled by someone of Commander's rank."

"That is true under normal circumstances," Mobinita replied. "But since this situation is of such high potential, the tradition was waived. And Captain Jelham is our most experienced torpedo tactician; he recently revised the standard curriculum for the naval war college. His insights into deployment and operation of the new torpedoes will be quite valuable."

Washu nodded, accepting the explanation.

"Your Majesty, may I introduce my staff?" Jelham asked. When Tenchi nodded, he turned to face the line of uniformed officers standing at attention behind him. "This is my Executive Officer, Commander Coel Pil'heureux." The ship's XO was a short woman whose auburn hair was wound into tight circlets that hung down her back. Like her captain, she, too, wore an impressive collection of commendations.

"This is our senior medical officer, Dr. Jikkyo Yosonya." A slim woman of indeterminate age, her almond-shaped eyes appraised the Emperor coolly from beneath straight black hair. Tenchi got the distinct impression that nothing much could disturb this woman's composure, whether proximity to royalty, the chaos of combat, or a medical emergency.

"This is Commander Quilen'sta Pennum, engineering and ship's systems." The man was so tall that his head nearly scraped the ceiling plates, and was so thin and pale that he appeared cadaverous. But his grin seemed to raise both halves of his mouth level with his ears, and his eyes were almost the same shade of violet as his short-cropped hair.

"Senior Lieutenant Shanmugajothi nax'aa Diamistrathi, in charge of personnel and supply." This woman was of medium height, and her emerald green hair was tied back into a severe bun. She gave the appearance of being at once both casual and thorough, that she was relaxed because she could afford to be.

"Senior Lieutenant Artdokht Gwymalat, communications and sensors." She was olive-skinned, short, and slim, and her face was etched with very subtle ceremonial tattoos and a complicated pattern of delicate scar tissue. The sides and back of her head were shaved, while the top was covered by a bowl of short black hair.

"Senior Lieutenant Kedney Kianyandaarwa, weapons and tactics." The man was lean and predatory, a bronze-skinned face topped with white hair that hung down his back in a tightly braided ponytail. A white mustache framed his thin lips, and a small scar bisected his left eyebrow.

"Lieutenant Yechoua Ino, our astrogator." The young man was short and round, his eyes staring out of an equally round face like two glistening coals. His head was bald, except for a blossom-shaped tattoo that covered the very crown of his skull. The ursine impression was amplified by the smile carved from his muzzle-shaped mouth.

"Lieutenant Qeziban Beora Hojanka, responsible for hangar facilities and shuttle maintenance." The young woman who bowed resembled a Terran carrot: a spray of green hair that topped a reddish complexion. She could hardly keep the excitement out of her green eyes or lanky posture, and her nervous titter was met with resigned eye-rolls performed en masse by her shipmates.

Thus the Royal Family began its tour of the IJN Attakiassa.

The destroyer was typical of Imperial navy vessels: she was old — outer space, an extremely hostile environment to the biological crew, was actually a benign environment for the plastics and metals that spacecraft are made from. Outer space bestowed the gifts of endurance and longevity, and most of the Navy's thousands of ships had been served by multiple generations of sailors. Attakiassa was already a centenarian when she was tapped for this project. It had been upwards of 15 decades since her initial completion, arming, and commissioning. She had been refitted and modernized several times, and would continue on active duty until succumbing to a catastrophic accident or destruction in battle. Attakiassa had been picked because:

* New spaceships represent a huge investment in time and resources, as compared to the more-modest costs of an upgrade.

* Since the new realspace driver would be retrofitted to all of the navy's assets anyway, why not start with a representative installation?

* It had been her turn in the rotation through the navy's reconstruction facilities.

Engineering was the single largest department on the Attakiassa. The officers kept its maintenance crews continuously repairing and replacing the effects of entropy, fatigue, and hostilities. Like all Imperial starships, she carried a complete nanotech foundry, hydrogen collectors to feed it, and an extensive technical library providing details on practically every component of the ship. She was powered by generators that extracted energy directly from the quantum vacuum, converting it to useful electricity and heat. The electrical grids then fed energy directly into the gravitic drives, which were used to transit through realspace at sub-light speeds. Trans-light speeds required the jump drive, which shifted the vessel into psuedospace where hyperoptic velocities were possible. Fully one-third of Attakiassa's internal volume was consumed by the reactors, force pans, inductor ports, resonating chambers, layers of protective cladding, and the miles of pipes, tunnels, corridors and ducts needed for the control mechanisms, wiring conduits, and access tunnels used by the service crews.

The residential areas of the Attakiassa housed the hundreds of sentients that served aboard her. Deck after deck of cabins, galleys, hospitals, gymnasiums, and support facilities. Light, heat, humidity, gravity, inertial compensation, radiation shielding, water, food, clothing, medicines, and all the facets of Life support must be provided, and in some cases tailored to different species' requirements. Attakiassa was often compared to a small town, and the comparison was an apt one: an Imperium sailor could spend years aboard the same ship, with the same crewmates, so it had to be physically and psychologically compatible.

On freighters and merchant tramps, the remainder of the ship's internal volume was devoted to cargo holds and containment lockers. On the Attakiassa this space was filled by the storage cells that drove the ship's directed-energy projectors; or the torpedo launchers and their corresponding magazines; or the banks of sensors and fire control computers that managed the weapons; or the shield generators that added a protective layer to the armored skin.

All Imperial spaceships massing over two thousand tons carried smaller sub-craft for use as shuttles, and the Attakiassa was no exception. Her auxiliaries varied widely in appearance from day-to-day, depending on their intended use. They were simple frames modified with interchangeable packages to meet individual mission parameters. Atmospheric entry was possible by reconfiguring the shuttle's forcefields to make them aerodynamically efficient. Supplementing these boats were the short-range teleport systems and tractor beam projectors, both capable of moving personnel and bulk cargo on and off the vessel.

The tour ended in the officer's lounge, which had been hastily decorated with banners and piped music and platters of hors d'oeuvres. The royals were shepherded into one corner with the Admiral and the ship's senior officers; the junior officers were foisted onto the civilians and told to "be polite and evasive."

"Your ship is quite impressive, Captain," Misaki said.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. She isn't new, but she certainly carries herself well. Most civilians fail to appreciate the great dignity borne by all old spacecraft, nor the almost biological feel of a ship: the cycles of repair and renewal that it goes through, the symbiosis between the crew and the ship's AI. I imagine it is comparable to a Royal Tree ship."

"Have you ever been aboard one of the tree ships?"

"No, Your Majesty, I have not. But I have always wanted to." There were less than 100 royal space trees scattered about the Empire: Tsunami ('Ouke No Ki', the 'First Tree of Jurai'); the four surviving first-generation trees attached to members of the Royal Family; the dozen second-generation trees attached to ranking nobility; and the assembly of third- and fourth-generation trees, ten of which were assigned to the sentinental squadron protecting Jurai, while the remainder were distributed throughout the Imperial fleets. It was every officer's dream to be paired with one of these latter.

"Perhaps you would care to join me aboard Karin sometime?" Karin was Misaki's first-generation tree, and she was its lifelong Companion.

Jelham's eyes lit up. "I would be honored, Your Majesty."

"Excellent. I'll have my staff attend to it."

Tenchi and Ayeka exchanged glances.

Tenchi_ - Amazing..._

Ayeka_ - What, that my mother finds the captain attractive?_

Tenchi_ - No_

Ayeka_ - That the captain finds my mother attractive?_

Tenchi_ - No_

Ayeka_ - Then what is so amazing?_

Tenchi_ - That I'm not the one getting into hot water for a change!_

Tenchi sat at the lounge table aboard Tsunami. Around the table sat Ryoko, Ayeka, Misaki, Washu and Admiral Mobinita. They watched Attakiassa on the monitors. She was being swarmed by service 'bots, shuttles, a pair of cargo tramps, and (in the distance) a screen of corvettes keeping a wary eye on the activities. The Fleet Admiral's private launch drifted nearby, waiting to shuttle the Royal Family back to Jurai.

The sound of flowing water could be heard throughout Tsunami's command deck, which resembled a garden full of sculpted ponds. One of Tsunami's main branches grew through the center of the structure, and many smaller limbs sprouted from the bulkheads. There was a traditional human-engineered bridge in one small section, separated from the main area by partitions covered with monitor screens and keyboards. It was here that the observers were sitting.

"The projections are simply astounding, Your Majesty," Mobinita said. "If everything goes according to schedule, we will be retrofitting nearly every ship in the fleet over the next five years."

"'Nearly every ship'? Why not all of them?" Washu asked.

"We don't know if the engine will work with the Royal Trees. It hasn't been tried yet, or even studied." Mobinita shrugged sadly. "Have you given it any thought, Empress?"

"Well, not yet," Washu admitted, "though I don't foresee any problems."

"Why don't we find out?" Tenchi asked. "Seems to me as good a time as any to try it, and Tsunami is willing enough."

Ayeka raised an eyebrow. "Can you generate a powerball large enough to accommodate her, Beloved?"

Tenchi shrugged. "By myself, no; with her help, probably. Admiral, would you inform our escort that we're going for a little joyride?"

"Yes, Sire," Mobinita replied. He knew better than to question the Emperor.

Tenchi sat quite still for a moment, eyes closed. The Emblem of Power began to glow on his forehead, and his family felt protective shields envelop their minds. Mobinita had one of the monitors keyed to relay a camera image from the nearest escort vessel, and they all stared at the image displayed.

The bow of the Royal Tree ship was becoming hidden by a blue-white fog, and moments later ten silver blades of enormous size crystallized from the mist. As he watched, three more blades appeared, and together they began to lengthen and stretch, looking like azure fingers reaching into the vacuum. Once they had reached a size nearly twice as long as the body of the ship, they began to fold backwards and merge, forming an iridescent cocoon around the biovessel.

"Tenchi, what are you doing?" Ryoko asked.

"Merging with Tsunami the same way I merge with human adepts: she provides the Power, I provide the control. She is many times larger than I am, and many times stronger, so I wouldn't be surprised if she's faster than me." There was the faintest jarring sensation, synchronized with the on-screen image of the tree ship beginning to pull out of its orbit. The escort ships scurried after it, unable to get any closer. And as Mobinita and the family watched, Tsunami streaked off into interplanetary space. Tenchi smiled. "For what it's worth, she is enjoying this immensely!"

"The escort vessels are transmitting their sensor results, Your Majesty. We're approaching an estimated 75% lightspeed! I guess this answers the question about retrofitting the tree ships."

"I guess it does," Tenchi said, his eyebrows nearly hidden by the glare from his Emblem. "Please inform the escort to meet us back at the Corral; Tsunami is in no hurry to return, and they simply can't keep up with her."

**ACT 2**

_Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,  
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.  
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,  
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you._

_Though I know that evenin's empire has returned to sand,  
Vanished from my hand, left me blindly here to stand  
But still not sleeping._

My weariness amazes me,  
I'm branded on my feet, I have no one to meet  
And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming.

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,  
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.  
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,  
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Take me on a trip upon your magic swirlin' ship,  
My senses have been stripped  
My hands can't feel to grip, my toes too numb to step  
Waiting only for my boot heels to be wanderin'

I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm ready for to fade  
Into my own parade, cast your dancin' spell my way  
I promise I'll go under it

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,  
I'm not sleepy and there ain't no place I'm going to  
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me  
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Though you might hear laughin'  
Spinnin', swingin' madly through the sun  
It's not aimed at anyone, it's just escapin' on the run  
And but for the sky there are no fences facin'

_And if you hear vague traces of skippin' reels of rhyme  
To your tambourine in time, I wouldn't pay it any mind  
it's just a ragged clown behind  
And if to you he looks blind, I wouldn't worry  
it's just a shadow you're seein' that he's chasin'_

_Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,  
I'm not sleepy and there ain't no place I'm going to  
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me  
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you_

_Take me disappearin' down the smoke rings of my mind  
Through the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves  
The haunted sheltered trees, out to the windy beach  
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow_

_Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky  
With one hand waving free  
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands  
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves  
Let me forget about today until tomorrow._

_Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,  
I'm not sleepy and there ain't no place I'm going to  
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me  
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you._

Artist — Bob Dylan (with modifications by Judy Collins)  
Title — "Mr. Tambourine Man"

**SCENE 1**

"Well, Captain, what do you think?" Misaki sat in her command chair, which occupied the central pedestal of Karin's bridge. Along the wall behind her were the various consoles usually occupied by her crew (presently vacant). The remainder of the available space was used for control panels and fixed monitors. Beside her stood the XO for Karin, Commander Rirri Ki'yuana, a tall and slim woman with short blue hair and violet eyes. The expression on her angular face remained as neutral as her body language, polite and proper and without opinions.

Jelham stood opposite Ki'yuana. "This bridge seems little different from any of the steel ships I've served aboard. The layout is standard, the interfaces are standard, even the color schemes and lighting are standard. And yet...there's a difference. A subtle one. I feel a presence all around, which the AI's are unable to project. I can't quite place it."

Misaki nodded to her XO, eyebrows arched.

"Very impressive, Captain," Ki'yuana said. "Most new arrivals take several days before directly perceiving Karin, which usually requires an adjustment period."

"I didn't say I was 'adjusted' to it..."

"You must have rated highly on your psyker tests," Misaki said. "And yet you've never been aboard a tree ship before? I find that odd."

"The list of candidates is long, Your Majesty, and the number of postings is few. I have no expectations in that direction."

"Don't be so pessimistic, Captain. There are nearly sixty fifth-generation trees presently growing in the royal arboretum. The first stand will reach maturity in the next decade."

"You are too kind, Your Majesty, but realistically the prospects are slim. I would expect Commander Ki'yuana to be much closer to a posting than myself." Which was true enough; to even serve aboard a tree ship — let alone command one — required exceptional psionic sensitivity. Ki'yuana nodded, acknowledging the compliment. "I believe I have found a useful niche in spite of my esper deficiencies."

Misaki smiled. From where she sat, the good captain lacked for nothing.

She tapped a few keys on the arm of her chair, and holodisplays materialized in the air. They showed the space immediately around Karin: the current residents of the Corral. The center was occupied by Tsunami, Funaho's first-generation Companion Mizuho drifted nearby, as did Ayeka's second-generation Companion Ryu-oh. Several of the Sentinels were visible beyond them.

"An impressive sight," Jelham said.

"Indeed," Misaki replied, but she wasn't looking at the monitors. "If you're schedule permits, Captain, perhaps you'd join me for dinner tonight."

"I'd be honored, Your Majesty."

"Do you need to contact your family, to notify them of your whereabouts?"

"I have no family to speak of, Your Majesty."

"Really...you aren't married?" Misaki already knew the answer to the question, having asked an amused Funaho to acquire the officer's personnel records. The resulting dossier made for fascinating reading.

"Not anymore."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she lied.

"It was a long time ago, Your Majesty. The usual sad story: junior lieutenants are notoriously underpaid and frequently absent for long periods of time. The divorce was not unexpected."

"How unfortunate. Perhaps it is best to leave the past alone, then. Rirri, would you have my shuttle readied, and call ahead to the palace and let them know there will be a guest joining us for dinner."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Ki'yuana replied.

##########

"So, how are you feeling?" Kiyone asked.

"Bloated and hot, with a constant desire to orbit the toilet," Mihoshi replied.

The two former partners and best friends settled onto veranda chairs, each carrying a tray which they placed on the table. Sasami had made them lunch before shooing them out of her kitchen.

"Gee, keep talking, it gives me so much to look forward to."

"Well, I will admit that there are moments when I would just as soon forego the whole experience. But then I remember how much fun I had getting into this condition, and what the final product will be. It helps me to keep everything in perspective."

Kiyone laughed. "When do you go on maternity leave?"

"Another week or two. I haven't decided. It depends upon how I feel." Her lunch began to disappear in rapid mouthfuls. "And what about you? How much time are you taking off for your honeymoon?"

"Two weeks. Trinnard can get an indefinite leave of absence if he wants to, but I don't have that luxury."

"So, where are you going?"

"I'll tell you all about it _after_ we get back," Kiyone grinned, knowing that (a) Mihoshi hated waiting for anything, and (b) she couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

"Oh, alright..."

##########

"What are you smiling about?" Ayeka asked. She settled herself into the hot bath, and reached for the floating bucket of bottles and cups. Steam rose in tremulous tendrils towards the ceiling.

"Because I'm happy," Ryoko replied. She leaned against the wall, arms draped over the sides of the pool, feeling the jets of hot water pulse against her back. She watched Ayeka pour the contents of a bottle into her cup. Ayeka gave the bucket a little shove, and it drifted over towards Ryoko.

"Is there a cause for such joy?"

"I have everything I ever wanted, and thought I'd never have: a home, a family, Tenchi..."

"Well, you don't have quite an exclusive lock on him," Ayeka drawled. She sipped at her cup.

"Yeah, I know. But It doesn't bother me so much anymore. Even when I'm not with him, I can feel him." Ryoko extracted a cup from the bucket, and reached for the bottle Ayeka had opened.

"As can I," Ayeka said.

"I sure miss having sake during these baths," Ryoko sighed.

"Cheer up," Ayeka consoled her. "It will only be another month or so. Besides, the fruit juice is good for you."

"Who would have thought that I'd have to be so concerned for my health."

"I thought you were concerned for your daughter's health?"

"Hers, too." Ryoko's smile persisted, even around the juice she was sipping. "So much has changed in the last five years. I can't even imagine what the next five years will bring."

"More children, probably," Ayeka said, a grin lighting her own face.

"Is that a personal goal?"

"Perhaps."

Ryoko chuckled. "God, are we getting domestic, or what?"

"I'm not complaining. Not one little bit. This is the life I dreamed about as a child. In later years I had horrible visions of being married-off to some ambitious princeling, and then kept manacled to a bed as my sole purpose in life."

"I thought you liked using manacles in bed?" Ryoko asked slyly.

Ayeka colored. "Well, just as long as _I_ have the key..."

They shared glances, before bursting into laughter.

Ayeka rose from the bath and padded across the tiled floor, leaving a constellation of water droplets behind her. She leaned over the hovercrib to check on the sleeping Azusa, and then made a minor adjustment to the sound-dampening field around the infant. She paused to watch him wrinkle his nose in his sleep, blew him a kiss, and retraced her steps to the pool.

Ryoko watched a small bulge rise from one side of her tummy and slide across to the other side. She wondered idly if it had been caused by a hand or a foot. Sometimes the whole experience of being pregnant was just too unreal to her.

Ayeka settled back into the pool, and reached for the cup she had set on the ledge. She pursed her lips when she discovered it was empty. "I must agree with you, Ryoko — I will be glad when we can open the sake again."

"You don't have to stay sober on my account, you know."

"I know. But you were gracious enough to refrain during my pregnancy; it is the least I can do during yours." Ayeka reached for the bucket and another bottle of fruit juice. "Have you decided on a name for your daughter yet?"

"Nope. I figure I'll get my inspiration the first moment I lay eyes on her."

"An excellent notion, although I presume Tenchi has made a few suggestions..."

"No, he hasn't. But Washu sure has."

"Now there's an example of an unpredictable set of occurrences."

"Yeah, I know. I have to admit, I'm a little jealous of Achika sometimes...knowing that I was probably treated the same way once."

Ayeka shrugged. "Washu is an excellent mother, and would have been for you, too, if the circumstances had been different. Let the past rest in peace — there is too much to look forward to in the future."

Ryoko nodded, conceding the point. She had been watching Washu for the last couple of years, making mental notes of the way her mother did things. She had also been observing Ayeka, and had to admit that her best friend was a damn good mother as well. Ryoko only hoped she would do as well.

She drained her cup and reached for the bottle, only to discover that it was empty. She retrieved the floating bucket and examined each of the bottles within it, tipping them upside down to verify that they were all empty as well. She snorted in disgust, mildly peeved. A flash of inspiration twinkled in her eyes, and her lips curled mischievously. After stealing a glance at Ayeka to verify her inattentiveness, she began laying each of the bottles quietly on the tiled edge of the pool. Ayeka continued to stare vacantly at the ceiling, and so did not witness Ryoko's stealthy movements.

"Ayeka?" Ryoko leaned forward, pulling the empty bucket beneath the surface of the bath water.

"H-m-m-m?" Ayeka replied, lowering her gaze.

Ryoko propelled a bucket of water straight into Ayeka's face.

Ayeka was unprepared for the assault: she reflexively snapped her eyes shut, and tried to press her lips together tight enough to keep the water from entering. Enough of the bucket's contents streamed past her head to splatter on the tiled wall, sending rivulets snaking in all directions. Ayeka slowly pulled strands of azure hair off her cheeks, scraped the water out of her eyes, and glared across the pool at the chuckling Ryoko.

"What's the matter, Ayeka, should I have included the shampoo?"

Ayeka's answer was a rapid series of scissor-kicks that sent a tidal surge slamming into Ryoko, forcing her against the wall. The empty juice bottles were carried well away from the edge of the pool by the swell, and Ryoko _sloshed_ down onto her submerged bench. Her head bobbed above the surface, cyan snarls weaving wreaths around her ears. She glared down the length of her nearly prone body, and exhaled a spray of mist.

"Thar she blows!" Ayeka giggled.

"Are you implying that I resemble a whale?" Ryoko growled, wiping her face.

"Well, Darling, there are certain similarities: the massive bulk, the spume from the blowhole..."

"Oh, that was low," Ryoko replied. "Well, let's see what you have to say about this!" She was even stronger than Ayeka, and the series of kicks she executed inundated the smirking Empress.

Sasami entered the onsen at that point, looking for her sister, and was nearly hit by the spray. She quickly took note of Tenchi's wives launching surf at one another, the saturated walls and floor, and the hovercrib in the corner of the room. She dashed over to check on the baby, relieved to see that he was completely dry and totally undisturbed by the shrieking and splashing. She ran back to the doorway, and considered her options.

Seconds later, stripped naked and cackling insanely, the teenager leaped into the middle of the pool, drenching the other two occupants — who immediately retaliated. The volume of female laughter and horizontal precipitation increased exponentially.

**SCENE 2**

Tenchi sat in a chair aboard Tsunami, idly watching the monitors. They showed the tree ship pulling away from lunar orbit, paced by Attakiassa. He smiled wryly, noting that this particular trip varied from the norm in several ways:

* Ryoko was ill, and had remained at home. She had surrendered her bodyguard responsibilities to someone she trusted — Sir Trinnard Qualston and his Companions, Sir Lorand Jabray, Sir Phieer Varo, Sir Miisa Myminka, Sir Tayto Bradar, and Sir Miabel Hakaisha. The impromptu security detail lounged around the command deck, watching the monitors and talking among themselves.

* Attakiassa flew alongside Tsunami. The captain and his crew of naval personnel and civilian engineers would be testing the new Masaki drive, under the watching eyes of its originator.

* Tenchi's normal escort followed as best they could. Since the combined talents of Tenchi and Tsunami rendered her faster than anything else in the fleet, she was the logical choice to accompany the recommissioned destroyer on its maiden flight.

A communications display flickered, and Captain Jelham's face appeared. "We've just received clearance from the space traffic control, Sire. They advise us to head away from the plane of the ecliptic, as commercial traffic is thinnest there."

"Sounds good to me. Set your course, and we'll be right behind you."

"Yes, Sire." The display remained engaged, showing the Captain talking to the hovering 'bot that served as the primary interface for the destroyer's artificial intelligence. Tenchi ignored the image, as he was busy merging with Tsunami and enveloping the ship in a blue-white curtain.

Tenchi's comrades watched the monitors with fascination, which were repeating what was being broadcast on a secure military channel. The Attakiassa was building a ghostly blue energy bubble of its own. Without warning, it streaked off into the distance, followed immediately by Tsunami. Schematics replaced the real-time images, showing the two vessels racing towards an imaginary point far north of the Juraian sun.

"My staff recommends maintaining this course for a while, as we have detected a few anomalies in some of the subsystems."

"Very well, Captain. Keep me posted."

##########

"Thanks for agreeing to this, Mihoshi," Washu said. They were in Washu's lab, in one of the rooms devoted to medical and physical scanners. Washu was attaching sensors to various points on Mihoshi's body.

"Sure. Although I have to admit I am a little nervous." She was sitting comfortably in a floating recliner, where she could see the displays on Washu's console.

"Huh? Why?"

"Well, for the longest time you kept hinting at the different kinds of machines you'd like to 'wire me up' to..."

"I did, didn't I?" Washu admitted. "Well, for the longest time you were a hazard to my lab. But think about it: when was the last time you destroyed anything down here?"

"It's been a while."

"It's been eight months, just before you and Ryoko and Kiyone went out to meet Naja Akara. On that mission you finally learned how to control your Power attributes. Now, not only can you turn them on, but you can also turn them _off_."

"Well, I'm still a klutz," Mihoshi replied sheepishly.

"I can live with that," Washu smiled. She attached the final sensor and gave Mihoshi's hand a gentle pat. "Just relax. I'm updating my records of all the family members. I'm also starting a history on that daughter of yours."

Mihoshi idly massaged her abdomen. The occupant responded by kicking back.

"Have you thought of a name for her yet?"

"I have a list I'm working through. Tenchi has already crossed-off the ones he doesn't like, although there weren't many."

"Yeah, he didn't object when I suggested 'Achika' for our daughter. Didn't figure he would. H-m-m-m-m, that's odd..."

"Find something interesting?" Mihoshi looked at the instrument readouts, but frankly couldn't decipher them.

"One of the genetic translators is kicking-out an unusual reading. I'm going to run the test again."

"Ok."

There was a long silence, broken only by the steady clicking of keystrokes.

"Nope, I got the same reading again."

"Is that bad?" Mihoshi asked, a vague fear for her unborn child taking root in her mind.

"No, just unusual. A puzzle. And I _love_ puzzles!" Washu cackled. She walked over to Mihoshi's couch and began removing the sensors. "All done. Here, let me help you up."

Mihoshi struggled to a sitting position, comfortable only when her feet touched the floor. "Thanks. Anything else you need?"

"Nope," Washu shrugged. "The machines will digest the data for a while. In the meantime, I was considering taking Achika out on the veranda. Care to join us?"

"I'd love to."

Tenchi - _How are you feeling?_

Ryoko -_ Miserable. I never used to get sick_

Tenchi_ - You were never pregnant_

Ryoko_ - Since when is nausea part of the package? Maybe I should ask for a refund_

Tenchi_ - A little late, you know_

Ryoko_ - I know. I love you_

Tenchi_ - I love you, too. What are you doing?_

Ryoko_ - Watching my husband gallivant across this solar system without me_

Tenchi_ - How can you do that? Those broadcasts are on a restricted military channel_

Ryoko_ - I have friends in low places_

Tenchi_ - Just what is Washu up to?_

Ryoko_ - She and Mihoshi were conspiring on some project. They came up from her lab a while ago before heading outside. She took the time to adjust the TV in the common room for me_

Tenchi_ - That was nice of her_

Ryoko_ - I should be there with you_

_Tenchi - No you shouldn't. You stay home where you belong, and get some rest_

Ryoko_ - But I belong with you..._

Tenchi_ - Ryoko, I am aboard the most powerful ship in the Navy, and I have six knights hand-picked __**by you**__ for an escort. What could go wrong?_

Ryoko_ - I don't know...something...anything! I should be there with you_

Tenchi_ - Excuse me a moment, Trinnard is saying something_

"Yes, Trinnard?"

"You seem rather pre-occupied, Sire."

"I'm talking with Ryoko."

"How? Oh," Trinnard nodded as Tenchi tapped his forehead.

"Ryoko says 'hi', and thanks again to all of you for babysitting me on such short notice."

"It is our pleasure, Sire. We are here to serve the Royal Family whenever, wherever needed."

"She also wants to know where you and Kiyone are going on your honeymoon."

"I don't dare divulge that secret, Your Majesty. I would much rather face Empress Ryoko's wrath than Kiyone's."

"You should hear her laughing."

**SCENE 3**

Tsunami and Attakiassa floated in space, motionless.

"Sire?"

"Yes, Captain Jelham?"

"It looks like we blew a driver coil. It can be repaired, but we will need to recalibrate the timing crystals afterwards. A minimum of three days."

"Do you need to return to the space dock?"

"That should not be necessary," Jelham replied. "Commander Pennum is confident of performing the repairs here. If you need to return sooner..."

"I'm in no hurry. If nothing else, we'll wait until the escort catches up. That way you won't be completely stranded out here."

"That will be at least seven hours from now."

"As I said, I'm in no hurry."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Jelham's face disappeared from the screen.

"Well, looks like we're going to be here for a while," Tenchi said to Trinnard. "Shall we see what Sasami stocked the cupboards with?"

##########

Tenchi was stretched-out in the sole bunk aboard Tsunami, a bit drowsy with a full stomach and a few hours to call his own. This was definitely a rare occasion. His mind wandered, touching a host of topics and memories of recent vintage.

Tsunami - _Tenchi?_

Tenchi_ - Yes, Tsunami?_

Tsunami_ - I wanted to thank you for showing me how that transfer system operates. I was never able to make it work before_

Tenchi_ - It was my pleasure. Are you getting the hang of it_

Tsunami_ - Yes_

Tenchi_ - Good. Can the other trees learn how to do it?_

Tsunami_ - Most of them do not have the Power to accomplish it. They will have to wait for mechanical augmentation_

Tenchi_ - That will happen soon enough_

Tsunami_ - Yes, it will happen_

_Tenchi - I've been wondering: can you generate a dimensional doorway?_

Tsunami_ - A portal between dimensions?_

Tenchi_ - No, a tunnel through psuedospace like the K'vimm did_

Tsunami_ - I have been unable to perform either task for a very long time_

Tenchi_ - Yet you are able to enter psuedospace..._

Tsunami_ - With effort, yes_

Tenchi_ - I was thinking...what if we merged our Power and tried building a dim — a tunnel through psuedospace?_

Tsunami_ - It might be possible_

Tenchi_ - Want to give it a try?_

Tsunami_ - Yes_

Tenchi_ - Ok_

"Sire? Did we disturb your rest?"

Tenchi wandered out of his cabin and settled into his seat at the table, as the knights made room for him. "No, Trinnard, you didn't disturb me. Actually, I was discussing something with Tsunami."

"Can we be of any help?"

"Well, you can raise Captain Jelham for me."

Trinnard's fingers danced across one of the keyboards. In seconds, Attakiassa's CO appeared on the main viewer. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"We're going to try a little experiment over here. I just wanted to warn you before your sensors started reporting anything out-of-the-ordinary."

"If I may ask, Sire, what kind of experiment?" Jelham's voice was tinged with concern, since anytime master class Power adepts conducted unusual procedures, literally _anything_ was liable to happen. And the Emperor was the strongest Power adept of them all.

"We're going to try generating a dimensional doorway, similar to what the K'vimm constructed."

"Oh." There was nothing else Jelham could say. If it worked, it had vast military and commercial possibilities; if it didn't, at least they were recording the process for posterity.

"Wish us luck, Captain."

"Good Luck, Sire." _To us all_. Jelham's expression added silently.

##########

The CO of the light cruiser Umibotakudani observed the communications between Tsunami and Attakiassa and slammed his hands on his command chair arms. "Damn all royalty to hell! How long until we rendezvous with them?"

"Two hours, twelve minutes," the ship's AI replied.

"Are we close enough for a visual?"

"We have been observing them directly for eight minutes, Captain. But even at full magnification the image is extremely grainy."

The CO stewed quietly but frantically. There wasn't a snowball's chance in Startica of getting close enough to render any immediate assistance. And his intuition was screaming that this was a Bad Idea. "Isn't there an astronomy technique for collecting starlight by multiple mirrors, and collating the data?"

"Yes, Captain. It is called interferometry."

"Is it possible to duplicate the trick by merging data streams from all the escort vessels?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Instruct the other ships to assume the octagon formation immediately, observe Tsunami at full magnification, and relay the data here."

"Acknowledged."

##########

Tsunami - _Where do you want to go, Tenchi?_

Tenchi_ - How far can we go?_

_Tsunami - How far can you see?_

##########

Jelham watched his screens as the blue-white nimbus formed around Tsunami's bow. As before, ten Lighthawk Wings crystallized, and then three more appeared. But this time the wings detached from the ship, drifting ahead and merging into one massive lens-shaped construct.

"Captain?"

"Yes, Sire?"

"What condition are your maneuvering gravitics in?"

"Fully operational, Your Majesty."

"Care to take a little unscheduled jaunt with us?"

That the Emperor intended to enter the doorway was obvious. What was not so obvious was how Jelham should answer his question. Jelham swallowed visibly, watching his career flash before his eyes. At the inevitable court martial, should he be condemned for failing to support his ship, or failing to support his liege lord? He sighed — he already knew the answer. "Of course, Sire."

"Very good. I'll keep the doorway open until you've joined us on the other side."

"Thank you." Jelham watched the monitors as the big tree ship inched forward, sliding into the azure disk until it had completely disappeared. With the mindset of a man placing his foot on the first rung of the gallows ladder, he ordered the Attakiassa through the doorway.

##########

"They did WHAT?"

"They have entered the doorway, Captain."

"God's balls, are they are out of their minds?"

The AI knew a rhetorical question when it heard one. Besides, it had more pressing information to pass along: "The doorway is closing."

"No! No-no-no-no-no-no...!"

##########

Ryoko watched the tiny blue-white disk contract, as the composite image from Tenchi's escort played across the TV screen. In seconds, it had completely disappeared. She felt a sudden discontinuity, as though inserting the tip of her tongue into the gap a tooth had recently occupied...and she knew something was terribly wrong. A moment later Sasami burst through the door of the common room, looking around frantically.

"She's gone!"

"What's the matter?" Ryoko asked. She felt a cold apprehension at the look of terror in Sasami's eyes.

"It's Tsunami! I can't feel her anymore! She's GONE!"

That's when Ryoko identified the discontinuity. "And...so is Tenchi," she whispered.

**ACT 3**

_Every night in my dreams I see you, I feel you,  
That is how I know you go on.  
Far across the distance and spaces between us  
You have come to show you go on.  
Near, far, wherever you are,  
I believe that the heart does go on.  
Once more, you open the door  
And you're here in my heart,  
And my heart will go on and on._

_Love can touch us one time and last for a lifetime,  
And never let go till we're gone.  
Love was when I loved you, one true time I hold to.  
In my life we'll always go on.  
Near, far, wherever you are,  
I believe that the heart does go on.  
Once more, you open the door  
And you're here in my heart,  
And my heart will go on and on._

_You're here, there's nothing to fear,  
And I know that my heart will go on.  
We'll stay forever this way.  
You are safe in my heart,  
And my heart will go on and on._

Artist — Celine Dion  
Title — "My Heart Will Go On"  
From the Paramount Pictures film Titanic, 1997

**SCENE 1**

The Royal Tree ship Funaho settled gently through the atmosphere, a ring of naval escorts maintaining formation with her. She was aiming for the private spaceport on the palace grounds, where the members of the Royal Family were waiting for her.

Funaho had not been home in seven centuries. While not a long time for one of the giant bioengineered trees, it was a significant portion of a human being's lifespan. To those on the ground, as well as for the single passenger aboard, a great deal had changed.

Funaho herself had changed. Her original structure had once born a cruciform cross-section; after her convalescence on earth, her limbs were now arrayed in a toroidal ring around her command deck. Drifting slowly out of the sky, she resembled a giant halo with corrugated skin.

Once close enough to cast a fairy ring shadow on the tarmac, Funaho paused; her escorts did likewise, maintaining a respectful distance above her. Her teleport beam flared briefly, depositing her Companion on the surface of Jurai. Her task completed, she rose silently into the sky, heading for the Corral and her peers.

Yosho stood quietly, enjoying the breezes and the smells of his homeworld. He savored the moment for as long as he could. Then he gathered his luggage and strode across the tarmac to the women waiting to greet him.

"Welcome home, Yosho!" Former Empress Funaho said proudly.

"Thank you, Mother. It's good to be home." Yosho bowed to his mother before embracing her. He had christened his tree ship after this indomitable woman, hoping that the name would bestow the same virtues upon his Companion. He had not been disappointed.

Behind his mother stood the other members of the family: his half-mother Misaki, his grandson's wives Ayeka, Ryoko, Mihoshi and Washu, and his two great-grandchildren. Tenchi's betrothed Sasami was present as well. They all bowed respectfully.

"You are looking quite fit," Funaho said, taking his arm and walking him towards the waiting ladies.

"Thank you, Mother." He had dropped the sexagenarian facade that he had worn for so long on Earth. He now revealed his true appearance, a young and vigorous warrior with long violet hair and crimson eyes. "Tell me, where is Tenchi? I expected my grandson to be here today."

"I'm afraid he is not available, Yosho. In fact, he isn't even in this solar system at present." She looked at the unmasked surprise on her son's face. "I will tell you the circumstances later."

"Welcome home, Yosho!" Misaki said, and stepped forward to embrace him. Yosho had the foresight to inhale before the bear hug was clamped on him, so he weathered it with only minor discomfort (Misaki was ungodly strong). "It's been such a long time."

"Thank you, Misaki," he managed to wheeze. "It's good to be back."

"Welcome home, big brother!" Ayeka and Sasami said, faces glowing. Ayeka whispered to Azusa, who studied Yosho with some interest — but with no intention of leaving his mothers embrace. Sasami wrapped her arms around her half-brothers waist and _squeezed_ — giving Yosho a real jolt.

"You've gotten much stronger, little sister," Yosho said to Sasami, massaging his ribs. "And much taller, too. But you still retain the freckles, I see."

Sasami stuck her tongue out at him playfully.

Yosho turned towards Washu, who was holding Achika. "I believe it is time to pass the Master Key to my grandson's heir." He withdrew the artifact from his sash, the twining branches of the hilt glowing warmly in the sun. Achika made a lunge for it. Everyone held their breath — until she safely put both hands around the hilt and tugged at it. The Master Key had recognized her DNA and had accepted her, rather than sending a surge of energy pulsing into her body.

"If it's all the same to you, I think you should wait until Tenchi returns." Washu stepped back quickly enough to break her daughter's hold on the artifact. "Since I can't touch it, there might be some problems."

"Of course," Yosho replied.

Yosho exchanged glances with Ryoko. There was mutual respect, but not much affection. "I have you to thank for my return, as well as my Royal Tree's survival. I believe these belong to you." Two gems glistened from the Master Key's pommel, flaring briefly in proximity to their mistress. "I can return them now, if you wish."

Ryoko eyed them, her face reflecting the struggle in her mind. Finally, she answered: "No. Keep them until my husband returns. I want him to give them to me."

"As you wish." With scarcely more than a shrug, he returned the Master Key to his sash.

##########

Yosho closed the door and looked about the room. _His_ room. The suite in the west wing of the palace that he had occupied throughout his childhood. The corridor he had just vacated contained doors leading to suites for his late father Azusa (currently being renovated), his mother Funaho, his half-mother Misaki, and his half-sister Sasami (though she seldom used it). His half-sister Ayeka's former suite had long since been converted to other functions.

Waves of nostalgia passed though Yosho's heart, and memories flickered unbidden into his mind. So many personal tragedies and triumphs had been resolved here. He wandered about, touching the knick-knacks and souvenirs, trying to remember the origin of each. Sadly, he failed to dredge the history of many from beneath a 700-year-old layer of mental sludge...he had forgotten much of what was once very important to him. His mother had carefully preserved the suite, placing a local stasis generator on-site to retard the effects of entropy, hoping for his eventual return. A similar strategy had been adopted by Misaki, when her daughters had ventured into space on their mission to rescue him. The rooms had not changed across the years, but the occupants definitely had.

The last official portrait of him, taken only three weeks before his hasty departure, hung on one wall. The face of that young man was bright with confidence, despite the public resistance to his mixed heritage. The camera had recorded a warrior's visage, full of courage and the desire to prove himself. What the camera had not recorded was the sorrow in his heart, that his very existence could bring his father's people to such heated dissension. Half breed...the term still stung seven centuries later.

So strident was the opposition to his inheriting the throne that Jurai had teetered on the verge of civil war. Most of the member planets of the Empire had observed the spectacle with little interest, content to let the issue be settled at the capitol. After all, they swore allegiance to the Crown — not the person wearing it. But armed confrontation would have spread throughout the Empire, affecting the lives of _trillions_.

Thus, Yosho had planned to disappear. Permanently. One way or another, he would avoid his father's schemes and his subject's objections. Ideally, he would die in combat with honor, and restore peace to the Realm. If that failed, then he would simply vanish into obscurity, leaving the arguments to sputter into exhaustion. It was ironic that he settled the conflict on his mothers homeworld, the source of his 'tainted' blood.

And even more ironic that the vehicle of Yosho's escape had eventually married his grandson, as had his own half-sister. Yosho smiled ruefully. _That_ whole series of events had taken more dumb luck than clever planning, but had ended spectacularly. He could still pat himself on the back for recognizing the opportunities and manipulating events so successfully.

He sat on his window seat, staring out at the gardens and clouds, contemplating his future. Just as he had so many times before. Only now, the circumstances had changed. He was free — of the throne he didn't want, of the marriage he didn't desire, and of the paternal expectations that he could have never fulfilled. He was home again, but now the future was bright with possibilities.

Yosho's smile was wide and heartfelt.

##########

Yosho wandered around the garden, basking in the morning sunshine, the fragrance of the flowers, and the memories of his childhood. It had been a long absence, and yet very little had changed. He found himself standing near the shrine built by one of his ancestors a millennia ago — and gasped when he saw the small bouquet of flowers, wrapped in a pink ribbon with small bells on the bow, which had been placed carefully on the alter. He retrieved the bouquet and examined it closely. "It couldn't be," he whispered quietly.

Mystified, he went searching for Washu.

Washu was sitting at the dining room table, typing busily on her spectral keyboard, watching the floating displays around her. Beside her, Achika was sitting in a booster seat propped onto one of the chairs, making a mess of her lunch. Yosho approached them slowly, reluctant to disturb yet unable to explain his discovery. Washu looked over at him and smiled. "Hello, Yosho. I see you found Tenchi's flowers."

"Tenchi's flowers?"

"Yes, the ones he recently placed in the garden shrine."

"Where did he get these?"

"On Earth, from his mother's grave. Why?"

"_When_ did he get these?"

Washu shrugged. "Not long before his...departure. Is something wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Maybe I have," Yosho replied slowly, lowering himself into a chair. "I placed these flowers on my daughter's grave not an hour before I left Earth. How did Tenchi manage to bring them here?"

Washu grinned and leaned back in her chair. "Much has changed since you saw us last. The family is growing, as you can see; but the biggest changes are in your grandson. He is now able to generate dimensional doorways using the power of the Lighthawk Wings, and he built one that that went all the way to Earth. He just missed you."

"How is that possible?"

"Let me draw you an analogy. Imagine a young man with a pile of clay; he molds it and lumps it together and if he's lucky he might make something that resembles a cup. He's not very good, but he has potential. And then one day an artist showed him a new way to look at the world around him, and how to express himself using that same pile of clay. So he starts experimenting, and his cups start getting better and better, and soon he's doing cups and pots and plates with an exquisite flair. And then he discovers he's able to do portraits, of people and animals and just about anything he sets his mind to. He's become an artist himself; and the more he tries to do, the more he's able to do. He just keeps improving, and his insights become deeper and more profound. But no matter how impressive the process appears, when you step back it is still just mind and heart and hands and clay. That is what is happening to Tenchi; he's become an artist whose medium is energy and quantum patterns."

"Has this changed him much? We saw what became of Kagato."

"No," Washu replied, shaking her head. "With Kagato, it was an obsession, and in the end it consumed him. With Tenchi it's just another facet of life, like studying martial arts. He accepts it and moves on. All things considered, he'd rather spend his time playing with his children or working in his garden. That's the man I fell in love with, that we all fell in love with. He hasn't changed."

Yosho paused to digest the information. Washu took the opportunity to refill Achika's bowl.

"What do you believe is his greatest accomplishment to date?"

"Oh, that's easy," Washu answered. "Somehow he's learned to collaborate with other Power adepts, and to orchestrate their energies with his own. I have no idea how he does it, since an adept's manifestation is supposedly a personal expression. He says he learned to do it while watching us ladies sing together. Something about harmonizing. It's utterly fascinating."

"Is he a good leader?"

"For the most part," Washu sighed. "He likes compromises, although there are times when a firm decision is needed. He's a good listener, his negotiating skills are improving, and he's immensely popular. His subjects trust him."

"It sounds like his approach to politics mirrors his approach to his Power attributes. Who are his closest advisors?"

"His family, of course!" Washu cackled. "Seriously, he listens to Ayeka and Funaho more than anybody else, as they are the shrewdest politicians. You might have some input along those lines."

"I doubt it. The life of a shrine priest was a lot less complicated. Actually, I have given little thought to an active role in his administration."

"Still, you are family. He'll probably want to discuss that with you when he returns."

Yosho nodded.

##########

"So, Yosho, how has Funaho adapted to her return to outer space?" Ayeka walked along the veranda, her body canted to one side as she held Azusa's hand. The boy trotted beside his mother, arm stretched high over his head, casting occasional glances at the tall man beside him.

"A bit like your son: wobbly, but full of confidence. And very happy to be star-bound again. She was eager to come home."

"I imagine Earth is rather staid, now, isn't it?"

"Funaho called that pond home for many years. But the pond no longer exists. The botanists completely drained it during her recovery. The whole mountain has become crowded, since the Science Academy outpost has continued to expand. I'm afraid the harmony we knew has been completely broken."

"What of Tenchi's father?"

"Nobuyuki is doing well. His wife and stepchildren are happy and healthy, and he has promised to attend to the graves above the shrine. He asks that we come back and visit as often as possible."

"I'm sure Tenchi will accommodate that wish...particularly now, with his new-found ability."

Yosho studied the clouds, the trees, and the rippling grasses. The late afternoon sun washed the world in gold and ochre tints. "I didn't realize how much I've missed Jurai, until returning here. Was it the same for you?"

"Yes. I'd have lived anywhere Tenchi wanted to, but I was delighted with his choice of Jurai. Of course, now that Father is gone, the decision is rather moot; the Emperor must reside here."

Yosho nodded.

"Do you miss Father?" Ayeka asked.

"I'm afraid what I feel is more of a nostalgia than bereavement. I was gone so long that I lost any kinship with him. And, quite honestly, I was glad to be out from under his demands."

Ayeka nodded. "There is a new spirit here, now. Tenchi is far more tolerant and far less insistent than Father ever was. I would never have believed the change in public attitude if I hadn't experienced it directly."

"Your husband does us proud, Ayeka."

"Your grandson had a good teacher, Yosho."

##########

"Good evening, Prince Yosho." Kaline Breexandra bowed deeply and then stepped aside to allow Yosho into her home. She was a middle-aged woman in excellent physical shape, who moved gracefully and with no wasted motion.

Yosho bowed, removed his shoes, and entered the house.

"I watched your arrival home on the vids," Kaline continued, "and wondered when you would come by."

"I could not stay away long without paying respect to my teachers family," Yosho replied.

"And were my father alive today, he would be overjoyed to see you. He spoke of you often, and with great pride. I understand that his opinion was in the minority in those days."

"Indeed, which only illustrates the courage of his convictions."

Kaline smiled. "Of course, no one could argue with the swordmaster and expect to escape unscathed."

Yosho nodded.

"I must compliment you on the training you've given your grandson. The Emperor is a skilled and proficient swordsman."

"Thank you, Sensei," Yosho said. "He never lacked for talent, and was always a good student. I trust you have been able to provide some guidance for him?"

"Yes, for him and his lovely wife. Although I have not seen either of them in at least a week...has Empress Ryoko had her baby, then?"

"No, not yet. Unfortunately, Tenchi's itinerary experienced a rather abrupt and unexpected glitch. He should be returning to his regular schedule before much longer."

"Excellent. And what of yourself? I'm sure you have a host of tales to relate, of your many years on a regressed world."

"Well," Yosho replied, scratching the back of his neck, "I did have one or two interesting experiences."

"Perhaps if I ply you with enough tea, you would consider relating those experiences?"

Yosho bowed. "I would be delighted to, Sensei."

**SCENE 2**

This wasn't quite what he had expected: Yosho had been home for over a week, and had divided his time between official celebrations and simple sightseeing. His family, however, was not particularly visible. In fact, Tenchi's wives had simply refused to leave the Residence. Even Ayeka, who normally represented the Emperor at official ceremonies and public proclamations, had closed the book on her itinerary. It was as if they were in mourning.

No one blamed Yosho for Tenchi's disappearance, of course...and no one made any mention of the coincidence in timing...but there was a decided lack of enthusiasm about his presence.

Everyone missed Tenchi, and was worried about him.

Yosho was not too concerned — he knew his grandson better than anyone. The young man would return in due course, none the worse for wear.

It was his own immediate future that so frustrated Yosho: after centuries of maintaining his regular routine as a shrine master, Yosho was actually bored. He didn't know what to do with himself. As Washu had stated earlier, everyone assumed that Tenchi would have a position for him. Something that would take full advantage of Yosho's tactical flair and fencing prowess. Old friends at the admiralty had been talking to him about the new Masaki Drive, and the window of opportunity available with such an overwhelming technical edge.

Yosho's intuition warned him, however, that the future held a bigger threat than mere expansionist sabre-rattling. People often forgot that Yosho was a Power adept, because his gifts were in the arena of clairvoyance and precognition. He _knew_ things — that Tenchi was safe and secure, for instance — without prior awareness. He saw events just before they transpired (a very useful talent for a swordsman); unlike Sasami, who witnessed events in the distant future. But even Yosho's myopic vision warned him that _something_ was coming...something extremely dangerous...and the Empire would need to be prepared and unified.

The Empire needed its Emperor.

##########

Sasami sprawled across her bed, staring at the ceiling.

Alone. Completely alone. She had been assimilated with Tsunami for _centuries_. Like a fan whispering in the background, Tsunami's presence had been a constant element in her life for as long as she could remember. Remove the fan, and the sudden silence becomes a palpable thing. The sudden silence in her mind was foreign and sinister.

She didn't like it. She didn't like it at all.

There had been a time when she had been afraid of being completely absorbed by Tsunami, of being swallowed like a wave in the sea. She had feared oblivion as a form of death. But that had been a groundless fear; time had shown her that her essence had not diminished, but had actually increased. Like a single voice being joined by a chorus. Tsunami had been a constant Companion to her, a calming voice on those dark nights when visions and nightmares had frightened her. And a source of strength during those times when the lives of her family were in peril. She was richer for the connection. Tsunami had benefited, as well. The growing bond had shown the ancient consciousness a new reality, a life filled with the joy of discovery and the fire of youth. Experiences had seeped into her vast awareness like wildflowers budding in a spring meadow. Sasami had occupied only a fraction of her attention — but it had been a significant fraction.

The union had not produced cacophony, but harmony. Not discordance, but convergence.

And later, Tenchi's mind had joined theirs, slipping into the weave effortlessly, providing a courage and confidence she had never known.

And now they were _both_ gone.

And she was alone. Completely alone.

And frightened.

##########

Ryoko decided to stay in bed. Again. Other than wandering out to the kitchen, or the bathroom, or the onsen, she had no real reason to get up. Behind the closed door to her suite, she could hide beneath the covers and wallow in the memories of the past five years, or daydream about the future. A past and future filled with Tenchi. The room still carried his scent, still echoed with his voice.

Ryoko's daughter stirred, nudging the walls of her womb. Ryoko wondered idly if her daughter sensed her mood, and was trying to tell her something. "Where is your father?" Ryoko asked for the thousandth time. "Is he safe? Is he happy? Is he alone?" Logically, she already knew the answers. Logically. However, since when did logic ever affect the human heart? The only way she would know for sure was by standing beside him.

The dreams had started again. The not-quite-nightmares of being alone. She had learned to accept the forgiveness of the citizens of Jurai, just as they had learned the truth of her past horrors and had absolved her of the blame. The voices in the night had been silenced by the love of her husband, who carefully tended the garden of her dreams. Even in her sleep, she could feel his presence nearby. But now his absence was almost worse than the voices had been.

In the old days, before their marriage, when her future was still uncertain, her nights had been wracked with guilt-filled dreams and the fear of losing him. Too many times she had awakened on that dark rafter, alone and scared, worried that he had abandoned her. She would fly frantically up to his room, praying desperately that he would still be there. And he always was. The sound of his gentle snoring would calm her frayed nerves, because she knew precisely where he was.

Even after the move to Jurai, and the cluster marriage, and the rotating sleeping arrangement, she had not been afraid. (Jealous, perhaps, but not afraid.) She knew exactly where he was, that he was safe. And that if she wasn't with him, whoever was would fight to the death to protect him.

Only once before had they been separated, when he had constructed his cocoon from the Lighthawk Wings. That had been a risky period; he had been gone for days, and could have died. She could have been left with nothing but memories.

This time, however, there was a difference: part of him remained behind. She touched the skin that housed their daughter, and their daughter touched back. Tenchi had promised Ryoko that she would never be alone again. And Tenchi always kept his promises.

He just hadn't indicated who her Companion would be.

##########

Ayeka sat in the rocker, pushing it slowly backwards...pause to rebound...repeat the push. It was a cycle, the slight creak of the runners marking the passage of time with metronomic regularity.

Azusa stirred on her shoulder, fidgeting in his sleep. The breeze tousled his hair and cooled his brow, and the tidal pull of the rocker lulled him to sleep. Ayeka had gotten into the habit of bringing him onto the veranda at nap-time, letting the gentle whisper of the swaying trees sing their soothing lullaby. Cloud shadows rolled across the flagstones, and the occasional bird swooped past chasing an insect.

Ayeka's attention drifted with the breeze, one moment focusing on her son, the next studying the clouds for familiar shapes. Time seemed irrelevant for an unanchored mind, which eased the pain of waiting.

Waiting for Tenchi to come home.

She missed him terribly. She missed his wry smile, his hand on her shoulder, and the way he cuddled their son. As painful as his absence was, the uncertainty was even worse. She would have borne the separation easier if she knew where he had gone and why. She tried to imagine him on a diplomatic mission, or a military operation — or even another clandestine effort like the one which had eliminated Naja Akara. She could accept (and even appreciate) the need for discretion, and would have been content knowing his absence had a purpose.

The navy said nothing at all. "Testing the new Masaki drive" was the official explanation, but she noticed that they were keeping an armed presence at the last known location of Tsunami and Attakiassa. She had asked Ryu-oh, her arboreal Companion, what the trees knew. They assured her that Tsunami was alive and well, but could offer nothing specific on her location and activities. Of course, that was typical of Tsunami's often decade-long withdrawals. Ayeka only hoped that 'Ouke No Ki' was not passing any bad habits on to her Companion.

Ayeka sighed, drawing on her reserves of patience. And perseverance. She knew she had meetings she should attend, functions she should perform, and appearances she should make. Frankly, she didn't give a damn. She wasn't up to maintaining a casual facade while dodging the media's barrage of questions, of pretending publicly that all was well. All was _not_ well. If Tenchi stayed away much longer, the media would figure out what was going on and announce it to the public. Tenchi was much too popular to simply dismiss his disappearance as an Imperial whim. There would be an accounting: courts martial for the naval officers, judicial inquiries for the civilians. And sooner or later someone would raise the issue of the line of succession: Princess Achika would be declared heir apparent, and her mother would be appointed regent (Ayeka had to grin at that image, knowing Washu's opinions about bureaucracy).

However, there was one consolation about the current circumstances: Azusa.

Ayeka had learned all about separation early in their marriage, on those nights when Tenchi shared the bed of another wife. She had adjusted, of course, since she had little recourse. But the birth of their son had dissipated her melancholy, because now a part of her Beloved remained with her constantly.

She gently hugged the sleeping infant, praying silently for his father to return home soon.

##########

"It just figures," Kiyone said.

"What 'just figures'?" Mihoshi asked.

"I finally work-up the nerve to accept the man's proposal, and then he disappears." Kiyone splashed the bath water irritably, reaching for her cup on the ledge of the pool.

"I should remind you, he disappeared with my husband." Mihoshi occupied the submerged bench seat that she and Ryoko had found the most comfortable. Fortunately, they were rarely in the onsen at the same time.

"Aren't you worried about him?"

"Of course I'm worried about him. We're _all_ worried about him. But I refuse to panic just yet."

Kiyone stared at her friend, eyebrows arching into her hairline. "I must say, that sounds strange coming from you. You have a penchant for over-reacting..."

"I'm only too aware of that. I'm trying to learn to modify my behavior."

"I'm impressed. Is that your idea?"

"No. Washu made me see that my empathic responses may not be the best approach for dealing with 2:00 am feedings." Mihoshi remembered Washu's convincing argument: that she was just as liable to start bawling as her baby, as she entrained her emotions with her daughter's. "I've been spending more time meditating and practicing certain behavioral modification techniques."

"Have they worked?"

"Well...no. I miss him more every time I think about him." She started to sniffle.

"I'm sorry, Mihoshi. I just thought you might have learned how to deal with these crises, what with being married to a hero." Kiyone watched discreetly as her friend struggled to regain control of herself. "Is this what I have to look forward to?"

"What does Trinnard have to look forward to? After all, you go dashing away on high-risk missions for Funaho occasionally. What if something happens to you?"

Kiyone stared at her friend, astonished into silence. The thought had never occurred to her.

##########

Washu sat in the semi-gloom of her library. It was one of the few permanent structures in her trans-dimensional retreat. Besides its own extensive archiving systems, it had psuedospace relays tapping into hundreds of academic and government libraries throughout the Empire...and well beyond. Her office was ringed with monitors, all tied into the central console.

Normally, the room was well-lit; but she had dimmed the lights to match her mood. She sat on her favorite hovercusion, elbows propped on the console, face buried in her hands, heart in her throat.

She couldn't find them. Sometimes it was possible to discern psuedospace traces of a dimensional tunnel, but it was always chancy. And this time, she had struck out. She had extracted the approximate position and angle of Tenchi's doorway from Umibotakudani's log, and had launched a series of probes accordingly. She had found nothing. Without knowing the _exact_ coordinates of the doorway, she could only plot a rough guessitmate of the tunnel's actual course. Her computer had calculated a narrow-mouthed cone whose apex sat due north of Jurai's sun and extended out to...infinity. The image on her computer screen resembled the beam of a lighthouse, guiding her husband home.

She was yielding to despair. She had only been married to her first husband for a few years before he deserted her. Almost the same length of time as this marriage, actually. And it was this coincidence that had shaken her confidence. Somewhere, deep in her heart, a little voice gloated over her misfortune. _You're a fool to think that any man would stay with you! Admit your fate: you are denied a home and happiness._ The demon cackled merrily when she sobbed.

No! She would not give in to such tortured soul-searching. As was her habit, she retreated from the soft sands of emotion to the bedrock of facts.

* Mikamo's father had jerked on his leash, and her husband had gone running home to Seniwa with his tail between his legs...taking their son, Mikumo, with him. She never saw either of them again.

* Tenchi was definitely nothing like Mikamo. Even with his immature Power attributes, there wasn't a creature in the galaxy — intelligent or otherwise — that could stand toe-to-toe with Tenchi and survive. So, it wasn't fear that drove him off. The last recorded conversation from Umibotakudani's log had sounded lighthearted and casual. More like curiosity.

* This time, Washu was not alone. She had a family for support: her daughters, Ryoko and Achika, and Tenchi's other wives. Her husband would never willingly abandon any of them, for any reason. If he didn't come home, it was because he couldn't come home.

* Tenchi had, by himself, forged a bridge between Earth and Jurai, across hundreds of light years. Despite the fact that both planets rotated at different rates and angles, traced different courses through the interstellar vacuum, and both openings had occupied different hemispheres, Tenchi had compensated enough to keep the doorway intact for several minutes. A phenomenal achievement.

She smeared the moisture from her eyes with the back of her wrist, snuffled loudly, pulling her shoulders up. _But how did he do it? _Tenchi was not godlike; the Power he wielded was not his own. His gift was the ability to tap into the fabric of space itself and extract raw energy, shaping and manipulating it as he saw fit. While the energy available was limitless, he could only process what the Lighthawk Wings could handle.

And then she remembered: it was a matter of timing.

Her fingers danced across the computer keys, locating data files. These she fed into her programs for analysis, where they bit and chewed and shredded the information recorded the day Tenchi had gone to Earth. It didn't take long to extract the answer: that doorway, like every other Lighthawk manifestation, was created and recreated hundreds of times a second. In essence, he had constantly refreshed the doorway's terminal points to keep the ends synchronized. He had not created a tunnel but a _tube_, flexible and malleable.

Once again, her husband had surprised her. A trait he displayed on a regular basis. She grinned, in spite of her worry.

She fed the new characteristics into her computer and waited. In seconds the map was erased and redrawn. The cone was now a sphere. Washu cursed under her breath. It meant that, theoretically, he could go _anywhere_ from that starting point.

Well, how far could he go? She wasn't sure; he could travel at least the distance between Jurai and Earth, and perhaps further. With nothing else to go on, she used that distance has her baseline. But, he had merged with Tsunami to create the new doorway. How far could _she_ go? Washu had no idea of the extent of Tsunami's abilities. So, she simply computed a percentage based upon Tenchi's three wings against Tsunami's ten wings, added them together, and fed the sum into the computer. It was sheerest guesswork, but it ought to give her a conservative baseline. The real value would probably be far higher.

The map changed. The sphere covered fully 40% of the galaxy, well beyond the borders of the Empire.

Washu groaned. Her demon laughed.

**SCENE 3**

"We can do this," Washu insisted, pushing aside the dinner dishes. "After all, we're linked together directly just as much as with Tenchi."

"It won't work," Ryoko sighed.

"A wheel is worthless without a hub, Washu," Ayeka said. "And Tenchi is our hub."

"Haven't you ladies noticed just how easily we mesh together? Our strengths are complimentary, our personalities are interlocked. Do you think that is the result of sheer coincidence?" Washu tapped her chest: "Wisdom." She pointed at Ayeka: "Heart." She pointed at Ryoko: "Strength." She pointed at Sasami: "Foresight." She pointed at Mihoshi: "Luck. We form a gestalt bond, where the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. Ayeka says we're like a wheel; I say we are more than that. We are a multifaceted tool — like the Lighthawk Wings. And in the hands of a master craftsman we can perform miracles."

"But that hand is not here," Ayeka said glumly. "We lack his guidance." She started cleaning Azusa's hands and face, which were liberally smeared with Aunt Sasami's soup.

"C'mon — Washu is right; what do have to lose by trying?" Mihoshi asked. "So: how do we do this?"

"We need a focus...something we can all concentrate on. Like a photo of Tenchi," Washu replied, gently setting Achika on the floor. Achika promptly disappeared into the common room.

"I've got a snapshot of him," Sasami offered, and went to fetch it. She returned moments later, placing the photo on the table, and set it on a slow rotation. They watched it in silence.

"Let's hold hands," Washu suggested finally.

"Why?" Ryoko asked.

"Empathic channeling," Washu replied. "Right, Mihoshi?"

"Skin contact does seem to help transfer energy," Mihoshi said. "Probably something to do with all of the nerve endings."

"To make this work," Washu continued, "we will all need to be synchronized."

"So what are you suggesting?" Ayeka asked.

"We sing together."

"Washu..." Ryoko groaned.

"It worked for Tenchi, remember?"

"I don't feel like singing a happy song."

"It doesn't matter what we sing, as long as we're in harmony. It can be anything."

"Ok, Washu, since this is your idea, you pick it."

Washu nodded at Ryoko, and they all linked hands.

"This feels like a séance," Sasami observed.

"Séances are for the dead — we're trying to reach someone who's still alive," Ayeka replied hopefully.

Washu started singing in Japanese, softly and hesitantly, but by the end of the first stanza her voice had strengthened with resolve. By the end of the second stanza, they were all harmonizing.

_Ue o muite arukoo_ (I look up when I walk)  
_Namida ga kobore nai yoo ni_ (So the tears won't fall)  
_Omoidasu haru no hi_ (Remembering those happy spring days)  
_Hitoribotchi no yoru_ (But tonight I'm all alone)

_Ue o muite arukoo_ (I look up when I walk)  
_Nijinda hoshi o kazoete_ (Counting the stars with tearful eyes)  
_Omoidasu natsu no hi_ (Remembering those happy summer days)  
_Hitoribotchi no yoru _(But tonight I'm all alone)

_Shiawase wa kumo no ue ni _(Happiness lies beyond the clouds)  
_Shiawase wa sora no ue ni_ (Happiness lies above the sky)

Washu really wasn't sure what to do. She was not a telepath, although arguably everyone had the talent in latent form. Instead, she touched her now-silent link to Tenchi, and remembered from past experience what it had felt like to meld with the minds of her 'sisters'. She reached-out blindly for Ryoko, since she had maintained a link with her daughter for so very long.

_Ue o muite arukoo_ (I look up when I walk)  
_Namida ga kobore nai yoo ni_ (So the tears won't fall)  
_Nakinagara aruku_ (Though my heart is filled with sorrow)  
_Hitoribotchi no yoru_ (For tonight I'm all alone)

_Omoidasu aki no hi_ (Remembering those happy autumn days)  
_Hitoribotchi no yoru_ (But tonight I'm all alone)

_Kanashimi wa hoshi no kage ni_ (Sadness hides in the shadow of the stars)  
_Kanashimi wa tsuki no kage ni_ (Sadness lurks in the shadow of the moon)

With a start, she found herself connected: Ryoko's thoughts were full of doubts and fears, but also a glimmer of hope. Next Washu tried to reach out to Mihoshi, since she was an experienced empath. The effort proved surprisingly easy; Mihoshi's thoughts mirrored Ryoko's. Washu found it much harder to reach Ayeka, but she finally succeeded. Sasami proved the easiest of all to connect to, since she had shared a link with Tenchi and Tsunami for so long.

_Ue o muite arukoo_ (I look up when I walk)  
_Namida ga kobore nai yoo ni_ (So the tears won't fall)  
_Nakinagara aruku_ (Though my heart is filled with sorrow)  
_Hitoribotchi no yoru_ (For tonight I'm all alone)

Washu - _Can everyone hear me?_

Ryoko_ - Loud and clear_

Ayeka_ - Yes. This feels surprisingly familiar_

Sasami_ - Just like when Tenchi does it_

_Mihoshi - Wow..._

Washu_ - Alright, ladies, use your Power and let's push this thing!_

The link grew rapidly stronger as each woman poured Power into it.

Washu_ - Ok, everyone, all together_

ALL_ - TENCHI!_

No response. The link continued to hum, like a radio beacon broadcasting into the night sky.

Washu - _Again_

ALL_ - TENCHI!_

No response. Washu felt their confidence falter.

Washu - _One more time_

ALL_ - TENCHI!_

And faintly...

_Tenchi - Huh? Is someone calling me?_

ALL - _TENCHI!_

Tenchi_ - Ladies? Is that you?_

ALL_ - TENCHI, COME HOME!_

The link collapsed.

"Damn! What happened? We _reached_ him!"

Washu's only reply to Ryoko's question was to sigh and shake her head.

"Washu, do you know what happened to the link?" Ayeka asked.

"This is all new to me, but at a guess I'd say we overwhelmed it with emotion."

"That's what it felt like to me, too," Mihoshi said.

"Let's try it again!"

"I can't, Ryoko, that just took too much out of me," Ayeka said wearily.

"And me as well," Sasami added.

Ryoko simmered, glaring at the others.

"Look on the bright side, Ryoko — we know he's alive, wherever he is, and he probably got our message. We also learned how to make our own link. That may prove very useful in the future."

**ACT 4**

_Hey Mona Lisa, who was Leonardo?  
Was he Andy Warhol?  
Were you Marilyn Monroe?  
Hey Mozart, what kind of name is Amadeus?  
It´s kinda like Elvis  
You gotta die to be famous  
I may not go down in history  
I just want someone to remember me_

_I´ll probably never hold a brush  
that paints a masterpeice  
Probably never find a pen  
that writes a symphony  
But if I will love then I will find  
That I have touched another life  
And that´s something  
Something worth leaving behind_

_Hey, Midas, you say you have the magic touch  
But even all that shiny stuff  
Someday is gonna turn to dust  
Hey, Jesus, it must have been some Sunday morning  
In a blaze of glory  
We´re still tellin´ your story  
I may not go down in history  
I just want someone to remember me_

_I´ll probably never dream a dream  
and watch it turn to gold  
No, I´ll never lose my life  
to save another soul  
But if I will love then I will find  
That I have touched another life  
And that´s something  
Something worth leaving behind_

_Hey, Baby, see the future that we´re building  
Our love lives on in the lives of our children  
And that´s something  
Something worth leaving behind_

Artist — Lee Ann Womack  
Title — "Something Worth Leaving Behind"

**SCENE 1**

Another morose morning. The family gathered singly, trudging quietly from their suites to gather around the dining room table. Sasami had been working mechanically, putting together a breakfast that no one really wanted, but they knew that they should eat. The babies sensed their mothers' mood, and responded accordingly: grumpy and ill-tempered.

Somewhere in the middle of the meal, Funaho and Misaki joined them. They declined to eat, simply pulling chairs up to the table and pouring themselves cups of tea.

Conversation was minimal, confined to the immediate task...

...until Sasami gasped, her hand sliding up to cover her mouth. She stared into the room wide-eyed, not seeing the curious glances returned by the family. The corners of her mouth began to climb, along with the angle of her shoulders. She pushed away from the table and dashed into the common room. Now concerned, the others rose and followed her.

Sasami was pawing frantically at the controls of the TV, sending it cycling through dozens of channels. She finally stopped when she located the secure military channel, identified by the glyph in the lower right corner. The image on the screen showed four of Tenchi's security escorts, floating motionlessly against a sprinkling of stars.

And in the center of the screen a blue-white disk was growing rapidly.

Tenchi's wives squealed, eyes bright as lanterns.

The center of the disk began to bubble, and then the bow of the Attakiassa began to emerge. Slowly at first, then with increasing speed, the destroyer passed through the doorway. It appeared intact and undamaged by its absence. The camera tracked the warship, and it became apparent that more than just a couple of corvettes were watching it: Attakiassa now faced a heavy cruiser and two of the Sentinels — and a blue-white mist was forming around the bows of the latter.

A window appeared in the upper left corner of the screen, and a humorless gray-haired woman with intense pink eyes stared at them. "This is Commodore Ma'rhissa of the Royal Tree Ship Sumikenki. Halt and identify yourself."

A second panel opened in the upper right corner of the screen, and an amused Jelham appeared. (Misaki giggled, and then tried to hide from the grins of her family.) "This is Captain Sir Noniel Jelham of the IJN Attakiassa. May I inquire, Commodore, why we are being welcomed home with open gunports?"

"A simple matter of prudence, Captain Jelham. You disappeared under unusual circumstances, and your whereabouts have been unknown. Too many questions left dangling. Now, where is the Emperor?"

"Right behind me, Commodore. He was just waiting until we'd cleared the doorway before coming through himself." Though the communication windows remained unchanged, the background image on the TV blurred as the camera was swung from the Attakiassa back to the doorway. The center of the disk was boiling, and the bow of Tsunami began to slide into view. "If you don't mind a word of advice, Commodore, I don't think it is proper to greet the Emperor of Jurai with bared gun muzzles..."

Commodore Ma'rhissa whispered to her XO, who promptly relayed a set of instructions through his headset. There was a flurry of on-screen activity, as ships hastily redeployed into a standard ceremonial formation. The massive flagship of the Imperial Juraian Navy emerged completely from the doorway. She was rendered full honors by the waiting escorts and cries of joy from the audience in the common room.

A third communication window opened in the lower left corner of the TV screen, and Tenchi smiled out at them. His Emblem blazed with blue-white fire. "Good day, Commodore. I must say, I didn't expect such a greeting."

"Good day, Your Majesty. The admiralty was rather alarmed by your sudden disappearance, and concerned about what might reappear. They are still leery of dimensional doorways since the K'vimm Incursion."

"Ah, of course. I'm afraid I have some apologies to make, then. Perhaps we should hasten home and attend to them, eh, Captain Jelham?"

"I concur completely, Your Majesty."

"Very well. If you'll excuse us, Commodore, we need to be leaving." Tenchi's window closed, followed instantly by Jelham's. The background image showed that the doorway was now moving, expanding and thinning as it floated towards Tsunami's stern. The center of the disk anchored itself to the flagship, while the edge continued forwards, slowly engulfing the Tree Ship. As the camera panned forward with the moving edge, Attakiassa came into view — and a pale blue bubble could be seen solidifying around the destroyer. In seconds, both ships were completely enveloped — and then both ships streaked away.

Commodore Ma'rhissa scowled into the camera, and shook her head. "All vessels stand down. Inform Admiral Mobinita that Tsunami and Attakiassa are inbound, and should assume a standard orbit in..." he looked over at his XO, who whispered a reply. "...74 minutes. Ma'rhissa out."

Pandemonium erupted in the common room.

"The breakfast dishes!" Sasami cried, and dashed into the Dining Room.

"I've gotta call Kiyone!" Mihoshi exclaimed, and waddled into her suite.

"Come on, Achika, we've got to get bathed and dressed. Daddy's coming home!" Washu said.

"We must prepare, too!" Ayeka grinned, scooping Azusa off the floor.

Ryoko laughed happily and whirled out of the room.

Misaki's comm unit _bleeped_, and she raised it to her ear. The exchange was short, and ended with a smile. "My office just received a communication from Attakiassa," she explained to Funaho. "I believe I'm needed elsewhere."

"And I should inform Yosho of his grandson's return," Funaho replied. She followed Misaki into the corridor, closing the door behind her softly.

**SCENE 2**

It had been a busy day, full of meetings and explanations and apologies: Tenchi had assumed full responsibility for dragging the Attakiassa and its crew off on an unplanned excursion. He had disrupted the navy's schedule, and thrown his own security forces into a tailspin. Technically, the Emperor could do anything he damned well wanted to, and didn't have to account to anybody for his actions. However, as a matter of practicality, it was good politics to smooth ruffled feathers, stroke fractured egos, and make gracious gestures. Tenchi was becoming a master at greasing the wheels of bureaucracy.

It had been, however, a very tiresome effort. And he was more than happy to see the sun set.

After a full meal and a chance to relax, Tenchi was getting drowsy. He sat in the common room, on the central cushion of the sofa directly in front of the TV screen. Ryoko sat on his right, and Mihoshi sat on his left, each doing her best to get comfortable. Ayeka and Washu sat on the floor nearby, playing with their children. Sasami draped herself across the back of the sofa, as teenagers are wont to do. Yosho and Funaho shared a nearby divan, talking quietly. Misaki and Jelham stood by the dining room table, stealing samples from the dessert platter and exchanging lighthearted comments. All-in-all, it was a very composed moment.

Washu broke the spell. "So, Tenchi, when are you going to tell us where you've been for the last ten days?"

"Yes, Beloved, I believe you owe us an explanation," Ayeka added.

Tenchi sighed. "You're right. It's time I explained our absence." He raised his right arm clear of Ryoko and extended his hand. He teleported a data cube onto his palm. "Here, Washu. I've been stalling the admiralty all day, because I wanted you to see this first."

Washu took the proffered cube, looking it over carefully. Her spectral keyboard materialized beside her, and she inserted the cube into an interface. She typed several commands, and the TV screen flared to life. The resulting image made her gasp, an expression echoed by nearly everyone else in the room.

Filling the screen was a galaxy, seen from above. No one had to state the obvious: it was the Milky Way. "We were a very long way from home," Tenchi said.

Washu finally found her voice. "That's incredible, My Love."

"No wonder I couldn't feel you or Tsunami," Sasami muttered. "You were too far away..."

"Why were you gone so long?" Ryoko demanded. "Did you get lost?"

Tenchi grinned. "Washu, skip to the next image."

She tapped a key and the Milky Way disappeared, replaced by a large, parasol-shaped mass with long tendrils streaming behind the central bulge. Oddly-shaped structures could be discerned buried within its translucent outer surface. As they watched, they could see wave-like contractions rippling outwards from the bulbous apex.

"This is a composite image," Tenchi explained, "primarily in the ultraviolet end of the spectrum. It was practically invisible until we adjusted our sensors."

"Is that thing alive?" Mihoshi asked.

"Yes. We nearly bumped into it when we first exited the doorway. Fortunately, it didn't pay any attention to us."

"Fortunately?"

"Uh, huh. See that little white dot just to the left of center? That's Tsunami." It only took a moment for the significance to hit them.

"My God," Washu whispered. "How big is that thing?"

"Captain Jelham? You can probably answer that better than I can."

Jelham cleared his throat. "That one was about the same diameter as Jurai's largest moon. It turned out to be a juvenile."

"What?" Washu stared at the screen, riveted.

"We followed this one back to its herd...or flock...or pod. I forget what we named the cluster. There were over forty of them traveling together. The largest one we observed was nearly five times the size of Jurai."

Washu was positively vibrating she was so excited. "Tell me you got more data on these creatures!"

"Yes, Your Majesty, we did. We filled the entire library of Attakiassa with sensor logs (other than the small portion we used recording the new driver tests). Whenever you're ready, we can download them to your computer system."

Tenchi chuckled, enjoying Washu's reaction: "Alright!" she yelled, pumping her right fist over her head. She hopped into his lap and kissed him excitedly, all the while ignoring the irritated looks from Ryoko and Mihoshi. "I forgive you. But don't you _dare_ go back there without me!"

"And me!" echoed four other voices.

"I promise, I will not go back there without my family." His wives nodded, satisfied.

"Were you in any danger, Beloved?" Ayeka asked.

"No. Quite the contrary, actually. Those creatures appear to be composed of coherent gas, similar to a plasma. We were afraid that if we collided with one, it would be like stabbing it with a knife."

"What do you call that thing?" Mihoshi asked.

"One of my crewmembers called it a 'Gossamer Jellyfish,' and the name stuck," Jelham replied. "I think Dr. Yosonya tried to catalogue it, and eventually gave up."

"But how can something survive so far out in space?" Ayeka asked.

"If I had to hazard a guess," Washu answered, "I'd say that because they are so diaphanous and fragile, they can't go anywhere near the galaxy proper — the intense gravity would rend then apart."

"How can something grow so big?" Sasami asked.

"What's out there to restrain them? Maybe they grow huge just because they can."

"I wondered about that myself," Tenchi added. "Tsunami's reply was rather interesting: 'Those who dwell among the shoals and reefs know nothing of the creatures that inhabit the deeps.''"

"That's very poetic, if cryptic," Funaho said. "I presume she was not surprised to meet these creatures?"

"Not in the least. She keeps her secrets well."

There was a long silence while they studied the image on the screen.

Washu broke the spell again. "Well, as long we're revealing secrets, I have a couple of surprises for everyone."

"Do tell," Ayeka drawled.

Washu tapped her keyboard and the screen changed again, revealing a chart comprised of each of their names and a corresponding graph. "These are DNA profiles. Specifically, they are the characteristics for generating the Lighthawk Wings. Since Tenchi is the only human we know of that is capable of manipulating them, I used him as the baseline. What is most interesting are the profiles for the rest of us."

"How so?" Funaho asked.

"For starters, we all have those same characteristics to some extent."

"So everyone is born with the latent capability, just like psionic aptitude?"

"No. Let me rephrase that statement: all five of _us_," she indicated the females gathered around the sofa, "have those characteristics. The odds for that happening are simply astronomical. I suspect that is one of the reasons we are so drawn to Tenchi — we resonate at some frequency."

"Nah, it's just 'cause he's so cute," Ryoko said. She snuggled against him for emphasis.

"Well, I can't argue with that point," Washu grinned. "But, the fact is that we all share those genetic markers. If you look at the chart, you will see the common signature those markers produce. If I may interpret the chart...?"

"Please do," Tenchi said.

"First off, I was surprised to discover that I have the requisite characteristics. No one outside the Royal Family has ever displayed the capability to summon the wings, and yet I have the wetware to do so. Very curious. I was not surprised, however, to see that the characteristics have been passed along to Achika. They are dominant in her, meaning she has the same genetic predisposition as her father."

"Then she will be able to summon the Lighthawk Wings, too?" Tenchi asked.

"Probably," Washu replied. "You have to remember that Tsunami stated there are other factors involved. We won't know for sure until she's an adult. But I'd put the odds in her favor."

Everyone stared at Achika, who was assembling a three-dimensional puzzle. She ignored them.

"Moving along to Ryoko, her signature is almost a duplicate of mine (naturally). Without actually testing her baby, I can only speculate. But I'd wager that Ryoko's daughter will have the same genetic predisposition."

"Oh, wow," Ryoko said softly. She looked over at her husband, reaching for his hand. He squeezed her hand in response.

"Now we get to Mihoshi. This was my second biggest surprise: her profile is almost a perfect match for mine and Ryoko's."

"How can that be, Washu?" Mihoshi asked.

"Because the three of us are related."

"No, it can't be," Ryoko muttered.

"How is that possible?" Mihoshi wondered.

"Because your grandfather, the GP Marshall, is a direct descendant of my son." She raised her hand to prevent any further questions. "I noticed the similarities when we were down in my lab. So I performed a full-spectrum genetic examination on you. Then I requested the medical histories on your family from the GP and the Seniwa planetary census bureau. The records only go back about seven generations, and there was quite a bit of dilution in certain areas, but it was enough to establish a definite trace. My ex-husband was from Seniwa, after all, and took our son with him when he returned." Washu paused, staring solemnly at her hands. "Frankly, I lost track of them a long time ago...it's rather ironic, the tricks that fate can pull on you."

"So, Mihoshi and I are _cousins_?" Ryoko asked.

"Distant cousins, yes." Washu grinned at the expression on her daughter's face. "_Very_ distant."

Mihoshi giggled. "Wait 'till I tell my parents."

"As with Ryoko's baby, I can only speculate about your daughter. But I'd also put the odds in her favor that she will have the same genetic predisposition."

Mihoshi placed her hands on her abdomen, her face a contemplative smile. "Just like your daddy..."

"And now we get to Ayeka. The characteristics are recessive, but still present. How many generations have passed since the last Emperor capable of summoning the wings?"

"Eight," Ayeka replied. She looked over at Funaho and Misaki for confirmation.

"Well, just like Achika, the genetic predisposition is present and dominant in little Azusa. Again, we won't know positively until he's matured, but the probabilities are stacked in his favor."

Azusa was curled into a ball on his mother's lap, drowsy and idly watching his sister. Ayeka kissed his head gently, and then looked up at Tenchi. He smiled and nodded. Misaki could be heard proudly whispering, "That's my grandson!" to Jelham.

"And last, but not least, is Sasami. Quite possibly the most significant surprise of all. Her profile bears a superficial resemblance to Ayeka's, but shows definite signs of modification."

"What do you mean?" Sasami asked.

"All those years you've been linked to Tsunami, sharing her Power manifestations, your body has been responding. In effect, your DNA has been altered. The result is that your characteristics are almost as strong as Tenchi's. It's quite possible that in the next five years we may see a transformation in you, just like we did in him. If nothing else, your children stand the greatest chance of exhibiting the characteristics."

Sasami said nothing, just exchanging glances with Tenchi. He grinned, offering reassurance. Then she felt her mother's arms encircling her, and a hearty, "Oh, My little Sasami!"

"In fact," Washu continued, ignoring Sasami's embarrassed distress, "the odds are heavily stacked in favor of _all_ of Tenchi's children being capable of generating the Lighthawk Wings. There are no guarantees, of course...just probabilities. But the future looks very promising. In twenty years, when his own Power attributes are reaching their peak, our husband may well have the additional task of teaching his children how to deploy _their own_ Lighthawk Wings. And as his heirs start families, the numbers will grow exponentially. Not only is Tenchi now the dominant political voice for humanity in the galaxy, he is also pulling humanity up the next rung of human evolution."

Tenchi sat in pensive silence, his jaw muscles working slowly, only vaguely aware of the proud smiles of his family. He was staring at the TV screen. When he finally spoke, his voice was tinged with curiosity. "Washu, why is there a question mark below your name?" All eyes turned to look at the chart.

"Oh, I must have forgotten to mention that. My last surprise: I'm pregnant!"

Tenchi emitted a strangled sound, and everyone turned to look at him. He was staring down into Washu's calculating smile, and on her lap Achika's innocent grin. His gaze swung over to Ayeka's bemused expression, and little Azusa's sleeping indifference. Beside him, Ryoko's radiant smile shown down on her swollen abdomen, and on his other side Mihoshi's giggling caused her own enlarged belly to jiggle. He heard Sasami clear her throat, and turned to look over his shoulder.

"You needn't worry about me for a while yet," she said, as though reading his mind. Then her face lit up with a mischievous grin, and she ruffled his hair. "But in five years you had better be good and ready, 'cause we'll have a lot of catching-up to do!"

Tenchi's shocked look faded as one corner of his mouth curled upwards, and then he started laughing. It deepened into an infectious belly laugh that soon spread to the rest of his family.

**SCENE 3**

As news conferences go, it was not a big deal. The Emperor had finally returned from field testing the new engine, and was officially welcoming his grandfather home. It was to be a simple speech held on the portico of the Residence, with a short guest list of old family friends, a few influential council members, and whatever media felt like attending. Therefore, the usual carnival atmosphere was absent, and a rather tranquil civility was the order of the day.

Tenchi stepped to the podium, and delivered his speech. It was received with respectful applause. Yosho replaced him at the podium, and spoke a few words. More polite applause. Then Yosho removed the Master Key from his sash and, with a sincere bow, handed the artifact to his Emperor.

Tenchi was silent for several moments, inspecting the ancient mechanism constructed from one of Tsunami's branches — and reviewing memories of more recent vintage. Then he turned slowly towards his family and summoned Ryoko. She stepped forward and bowed (as graceful as any extremely pregnant woman can). Tenchi extended the hilt of the Master Key towards her and concentrated. The two crimson gems flared once and vanished, reappearing on Ryoko's right wrist and throat.

For a moment Ryoko was in shock, and then in a rush leaned over her swollen belly and pulled Tenchi into a passionate kiss. The crowd laughed and applauded.

Washu and Tsunami were standing on the Veranda, watching the events from a distance.

"She is once again whole," Tsunami observed.

"Yes, she is." Washu agreed.

"Were you apprehensive?"

"Honestly? Yes — right up to the moment that she kissed Tenchi. I knew then that she would _never_ revert to the monster that Kagato had created."

"She has discovered the full power of her love and compassion."

"So, can she summon the Lighthawk Wings?"

"Not yet. Her heart grows bigger with each passing day; soon it will be big enough."

"After her daughter is born?"

"Yes. She will be ready then."

"Will you instruct her?"

"No."

Washu turned to look at Tsunami, eyebrows raised in surprise.

Tsunami smiled back. "Tenchi will instruct her. I will merely advise when necessary."

"Ah," Washu nodded slowly. "A wise plan. And Sasami?"

"A few more years. She, too, will take her guidance from Tenchi."

There was silence for awhile, broken by the faint noises from the news conference.

"We are free, now," Washu finally said.

"Yes," Tsunami replied. "We came to this galaxy seeking to breed allies of commensurate Power, and failed. Tenchi has succeeded beyond our wildest hopes. And he has redeemed both of our avatars. He truly is The One."

"We can't relax our vigilance."

"No. Never. But now I share your hope, Sister. Let Tokimi come; we will be ready."

**============ Author's Notes ===========**

The title of this story is a phrase from the song originally sung by Kyu Sakamoto, _"Ue o Muite Aruko"_ ("I Look Up When I Walk"), which was released in Japan in 1961, and in the U.S. in 1963 as "Sukiyaki". The details (and the lyrics) are from the Kyu Sakamoto webpage.

Has anyone else noticed the similarities between Tsunami and the Andromeda Ascendant from the TV series Gene Rodenberry's Andromeda? After all, both ships are graceful in appearance, powerful, and sentient. Both communicate primarily with a holographic projection of a human female, both are fiercely loyal to their organic symbionts (Tenchi Masaki and Dylan Hunt), and both are exploring the concept of emotions through avatars (Sasami Jurai and 'Rommie'). While I'm not overly impressed with Andromeda, it does provide a useful comparison on several levels, mostly background information on Commonwealth culture and technology.

The characters of Tenchi Muyo were created by Masaki Kajashima, and brought to North America by Pioneer LDC. This story, while incorporating names and situations held under copyright by others, is copyright 2002 by Jeffery L. Harris.

This story comes entirely from my imagination, and is not, nor intended to be, canon. Please do not send the legions of lawyers after me...it's not worth their time, or mine.

Any questions or comments should be directed to:

Jeffery L Harris  
Subject: "Hitoribotchi no yoru"


	9. EPISODE 8  Somewhere Along The Road

**PROLOGUE**

_When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,  
He shouts to scare the monster who will often turn aside.  
But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail.  
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male._

_When Nag, the wayside cobra, hears the careless foot of man,  
He will sometimes wriggle sideways and avoid it if he can,  
But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trail-  
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male._

_When the early Jesuit father's preached to Hurons and Choctaws,  
They prayed to be delivered from the vengeance of the squaws-_  
'_Twas the women, not the warriors, turned those stark enthusiasts pale-  
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male._

_Man's timid heart is bursting with the things he must not say,  
For the Woman that God gave him isn't his to give away;  
But when hunter meets with husband, each confirms the others tale-  
The female of the species is more deadly than the male._

_Man, a bear in most relations, worm and savage otherwise,  
Man propounds negotiations, Man accepts the compromise;  
Very rarely will he squarely push the logic of a fact  
To its ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act._

_Fear, or foolishness, impels him, ere he lay the wicked low,  
To concede some form of trial even to his fiercest foe.  
Mirth obscene diverts his anger; Doubt and Pity oft perplex  
Him in dealing with an issue-to the scandal of the Sex!_

_But the Woman that God gave him, every fiber of her frame  
Proves her launched for one sole issue, armed and engined for the same,  
And to serve that single issue, lest the generations fail,  
The female of the species must be deadlier than the male._

_She who faces Death by torture for each life beneath her breast  
May not deal in doubt or pity-must not swerve for fact or jest.  
These be purely male diversions-not in these her honour dwells-  
She, the Other Law we live by, is that Law and nothing else!_

_She can bring no more to living than the powers that make her great  
As the Mother of the Infant and the Mistress of the Mate;  
And when Babe and Man are lacking and she strides unclaimed to claim  
Her right as femme (and baron), her equipment is the same._

_She is wedded to convictions-in default of grosser ties;  
Her contentions are her children. Heaven help him, who denies!  
He will meet no cool discussion, but the instant, white-hot, wild  
Wakened female of the species warring as for spouse and child._

_Unprovoked and awful charges-even so the she-bear fights;  
Speech that drips, corrodes and poisons-even so the cobra bites;  
Scientific vivisection of one nerve till it is raw,  
And the victim writhes in anguish-like the Jesuit with the squaw!_

_So it comes that Man, the coward, when he gathers to confer  
With his fellow-braves in council, dare not leave a place for her  
Where, at war with Life and Conscience, he uplifts his erring hands  
To some God of Abstract Justice-which no woman understands._

_And Man knows it! Knows, moreover, that the Woman that God gave him  
Must command but may not govern; shall enthrall but not enslave him.  
And She knows, because She warns him and Her instincts never fail,  
That the female of Her species is more deadly than the male!_

Poem: "The Female Of The Species"  
Author: Rudyard Kipling

**ACT 1 - FRIDAY AFTERNOON**

_It's 'bout as bad as it could be  
Seems everybody's buggin' me  
Like nothing wants to go my way –  
Yeah, it just ain't been my day  
Nothin's comin' easily_

_Even my skin is acting weird  
I wish that I could grow a beard  
Then I could cover up my spots  
Not play connect the dots  
I just wanna disappear_

_Up–up–up–  
Can only go up from here  
Up–up–up–Up  
Where the clouds gonna clear  
Up–up–up–  
There's no way but up from here_

_Even something as simple as  
Forgettin' to fill up on gas  
There ain't no explanation why –  
Things like that can make you cry  
Just gotta learn to have a laugh_

_Up–up–up–  
Can only go up from here  
Up–up–up–Up  
Where the clouds gonna clear  
Up–up–up–  
There's no way but up from here_

_Oh yeah, yeah, yeah...  
When everything is goin' wrong  
Don't worry, it won't last for long  
Yeah, it's all gonna come around  
Don't go let it get you down  
You gotta keep on holding on_

_It's 'bout as bad as it could be  
Seems everybody's buggin' me  
Like nothing want to go my way —  
Yeah, it just ain't been my day  
Nothin's comin' easily_

_Up–up–up–  
Can only go up from here  
Up–up–up–Up  
Where the clouds gonna clear  
Up–up–up–  
There's no way but up from here_

_Oh – I'm going up  
Oh – I'm going up  
Oh – I'm going up  
Oh – I'm going up_

_Oh yeah, yeah, yeah... _

Title: "Up!"  
Artist: Shania Twain

Seina Yamada sat in the command chair of the Kamidake II, watching the stars of psuedospace streaking across the main viewer. While not quite as enthralling as looking at the stars directly (in realspace), it was still a semi-hypnotic image. And it reminded him of the snowflakes of home, racing past a speeding car's windshield.

Home, of course, was many light years away. He had not seen Earth in two months, on the occasion of his wedding. And even then, he hadn't gotten to spend any time dirtside — the ceremony and the surrounding events had been much too chaotic. What with Tarant's attempt to murder him, the preparations to marry his four crewmates, and then the foreign entourage that kidnapped and publicly seduced him (all in the name of showing their devotion and desperate need)...

"You're awful quiet, Dear," Kiriko said. Of the eight women present, all wearing Galaxy Police uniforms, she was the senior officer — and the oldest, and the one who had known him the longest. Only Seina himself outranked her. "Thinking about the next few days?"

"No," he shrugged, "just daydreaming. If I think about the next few days, I'm liable to get nervous about it."

"You'll do just fine," she smiled. "We have the greatest confidence in you, and are _extremely_ proud of you."

"Absolutely!" Amane said, rotating her seat to look at him. "Just imagine: a knighthood!"

"And sponsored by the Emperor himself!" Hakuren added, her seat pivoting around. "Oh, Seina, it's just so wonderful!"

Seina shrugged, blushing. "You ladies had as much to do with it as I did," he replied.

"No, we didn't," Ryoko countered. "It was your talent, and your luck, and your destiny, that made it possible."

We are just happy to have been a part of it," Suiren said. To that, all of Seina's wives nodded in agreement, their smiles radiant.

There was an audible tone, and a blinking indicator on Neeju's holographic console. She tapped a key and a corresponding transparent graphic appeared above her. "We have an in-coming message on the JSTC standard frequency."

"Pipe it through," Seina replied.

A large pane appeared next to the main viewer. The middle-aged woman looking at them appeared rather bored, lulled into monotony by routine. "This is Juraian Space Traffic Control, please identify yourself."

"This is Galaxy Police cruiser Kamidake II," Neeju replied. "We are providing escort for the transport vessel Barnidad."

"Roger that, Kamidake II. Final destination?"

"GP space dock facilities on Jurai's largest moon."

"Acknowledged. Prepare to receive coordinates for the in-bound flight corridor."

"Roger, JSTC. We will relay the coordinates to the Barnidad."

"Affirmative. Over and out." The connection terminated and the pane disappeared. Neeju's fingers danced across her console. At the same time, Amane tapped keys on her ethereal console, and the main viewer flickered, the bow view being replaced by the image of the dirigible-shaped vessel sailing alongside. "Coordinates received. ETA four minutes to breakout, fourteen hours to lunar orbit."

"Confirmed," Neeju replied.

"Thank you," Seina said. When they chose to be, his crew was efficient and coordinated. Like now. As a consequence, Seina's Bridge Bunnies were surprisingly serene.

There was only a modest vibration throughout the cruiser, and light streaks on the main viewer contracting into points around the Barnidad, to show that both ships had dropped back into reality.

"Breakout complete," Kiriko announced, following SOP (no matter how obvious it was).

"Where's the JSTC perimeter complex?" Hakuren asked.

"Hang on a second," Ryoko replied. Her fingers tickled the shadow keys on her console, and yet another pane appeared. This one showed the collection of hollow asteroids and man-made structures that comprised the nearest skyharbor. The skyharbors were a picket line of massive space stations denoting the sphere around Jurai's sun that marked the optimum jump point into psuedospace. They served as JSTC routing centers, warehousing space for the deep space tramps, and the first line of defense for Homeworld. Hundreds of starships could be seen phasing in and out of realspace on the farside of the structure, and a steady stream of shuttles could be seen climbing up (or sliding down) the gravity well from in-system. Thousands of vessels orbited in temporary constellations.

"We've been assigned to a pretty congested corridor," Amane sighed, watching the complex slide past. "No wonder it will take so long to get there."

"You're just in a hurry."

"Yep. I want to see our husband knighted!"

##########

Minister Syuuzen Amaki cleared his throat. "Could you please explain my presence here?" He sat on the lone hoverchair on his side of the table. Around him stood uniformed guards with automatic beam rifles slung low and ready. Across the table sat three women: Commander Kiyone Qualston, Juraian Internal Security; Former Empress Funaho Masaki, the Director of Juraian Internal Security; and Lady Seto Kamiki, Plenipotentiary of the Juraian Crown. The former wore a hostile expression, the latter two remained impassive.

"We have compiled enough evidence to charge you with murder and treason, Minister," Funaho replied.

"You can't be serious."

"I'm afraid I am serious. If found guilty, you will be publicly executed."

"Shouldn't I have a lawyer present?"

"You will be given that opportunity at your trial, along with copies of all of the evidence. This preliminary meeting is a courtesy due to your rank."

"Yes," Seto said evenly, "it isn't every day that a member of the Emperor's Privy Council is charged with a capital offense."

Syuuzen looked around the room. Funaho's office was impressive for its austerity: simple furniture, sumptuous carpets and draperies, a view of the palace grounds through her expansive windows. The guards, of course, were a temporary fixture. "Very well, what evidence do you offer to support such allegations?"

"We do not have to reveal the full details at this point, Minister," Funaho replied. "But we will disclose the broader aspects, because your immediate confession would save everyone a great deal of time, expense and scandal."

"I'm sure it would." He leaned back and crossed his arms, the very picture of obstinate innocence.

Funaho sighed and gestured to Kiyone. The latter rose from her chair, lifting the datapad that had been resting on the table before her.

"Approximately three months ago, six individuals boarded Juraian Air Services Flight 1033, a commuter shuttle in-bound to the capitol air transport complex from the Taketomi orbital resort center. These individuals were all affiliated with the on-going Naval construction contract for building and installing the new Masaki drive into elements of the home fleet. This group consisted of: Kazoyoshi Funaki, chief operating officer of Steelcraft Ship Systems and executive vice president of Steelcraft Industries, Ltd.; his secretary, G'Losa ven-Kadi; Rostex Blohgett and Jame'Wa Okabe, both attorneys for Steelcraft; Wil Thon Xur, President and CEO, Maccoon Organotronics, Ltd.; and Masahiko Harada, Maccoon's principal corporate attorney

"This was a belligerent group determined to confront you personally, Lord Syuuzen. They had uncovered documents showing that you, as Minister of Justice, had dropped anti-trust charges against a rival consortium — Crediheero Consolidated — after a massive bribe had been paid."

"Oh, come now..." Syuuzen started.

Kiyone ignored the interruption. "Their documentation showed that less than a week after your office dropped the charges against Crediheero, you, through a law partner as nominee, received a generous stock interest in Crediheero. A _very_ generous stock interest. Such a move violates the conflict of interests statutes, and is patently illegal." She paused, waiting for his reaction. He simply snorted in disgust. "Once unfettered, Crediheero was then able to ace-out the Steelcraft/Maccoon alliance for the naval contract. That was an immediate loss of some 380 million credits. Of more importance, though, was the loss of the anticipated long-term revenue; the propulsion system, once commercialized, was projected to grow to anywhere between two and four billion credits over then next ten years."

"What possible concern would Juraian Internal Security have with what is obviously a domestic commercial matter?" Syuuzen asked, stifling a yawn.

"While the involvement of a Naval contractor _by itself_ could raise this to a national security issue," Kiyone replied, "it simply doesn't end there. While researching the bribery activities, Okabe stumbled across evidence that you were selling the plans for the engine, along with other classified military information, to the Ascenn'an Autocracy — one of Jurai's less savory neighbors. Okabe managed to locate five witnesses, and he had their identities and the evidence in a locked briefcase aboard the shuttle. The last thing he told his wife before his departure was that he carried files of a highly sensitive nature, and gave her instructions where to locate copies if anything happened to him.

"Also on Flight 1033 was Kanrisisko Vorunto, JNS Network reporter, who had been instrumental in tracking down the witnesses — in exchange for an exclusive story. She left notes behind, too, and her assumption was that the representatives of the two firms were going to attempt to blackmail you into renegotiating the naval contract. Ms. Vorunto had lots of insight into the nature of corporate dirty tricks through her fiancée, one of our senior-level operatives. She was a savvy reporter with a track record for uncovering corruption in high places.

"Also on the plane were five union executives, returning from the Juraian Lobbyists Association annual convention. And who, by sheerest happenstance, had just recently beaten racketeering charges by members of your ministry.

"And the last passenger on the plane was one Ramiss Poressan, purported to be a narcotics officer with the Drug Abuse Law Enforcement Agency. He informed the pilot that he was packing a gun, and so was assigned a seat near the rear door of the plane.

"Flight 1033 was released from the orbital complex at 9:44 AM local time, with an ETA of 14:08PM. Juraian space traffic control logs report no unusual activity during reentry, when they exited JSTC jurisdiction and were acquired by Edizon Control Tower.

"Flight 1033 never made it."

##########

The Barnidad was a unique vessel in that it was one large container; its usual cargo consisted of entire vessels (yachts, shuttles, etc.). It was heavily reinforced, and its internal support system could be configured to brace virtually any shaped vehicle imaginable.

The current payload was undoubtedly the most radically distinctive cargo it had ever transported: Seina's mecha unit. Humanoid in shape, massive in scale, it lay supine and motionless on the deck of the hold, to all outward appearances inactive. It had seen very little activity over the course of its eons-long existence, designed and built by a race long since instinct. At some point in its more-recent past, someone had removed the original power source and replaced it with a sophisticated organic-based reactor — whose power source was a fist-sized seed. A sentient, highly intelligent seed. One who (like the robot conveyor) had been dormant for most of its long life, and had agreed to the implantation simply to gain maneuverability. Sadly, it had been buried in a cave shortly afterward and allowed to relapse back into a comatose state. For nearly 18,000 years, it lay idle and forgotten...until an Earthling boy with tremendous Power attributes disturbed its slumber. Lonely, confused, and sensing danger, the seed had bonded with the human. Now fully roused from its torpidity, the seed and its human Companion had lashed out with unprecedented destruction, crumpling a pirate fleet and rescuing its victims.

For the first time in thousands of years, the seed was mobile again.

Even more exciting, the seed had learned of its heritage. There were others of its kind, who had been nurtured and guided into full maturity. Long-lived and powerful, these space-roving organisms had willingly formed symbiotic bonds to other humans, those with attributes similar to the boy...the boy named Seina.

And now Seina was taking the seed to meet those others, and the one who had borne it: the Genesis Tree, Tsunami.

Kiyone continued to read from her datapad: "Your ministry's own published accounts of subsequent events, extracted from the shift log taken from the spaceport tower, show that Flight 1033 initiated a series of random maneuvers approximately fifteen kilometers away from the spaceport tarmac. The ground controllers assumed the aircraft was in distress and attempted to contact the crew. There was no response. During this time, Flight 1033's flight recorder (located in the tail of the aircraft) ceased to function, but just before complete shutdown it recorded a wide variance in on-board power levels. It is probably safe to say the plane's automated instrumentation was completely useless, and that the pilots would have gone to manual operation. Even though she would have been coming in dark, Flight 1033 had sufficient altitude that the aircrew would have had time to take corrective action. They did not. Consequently, the aircraft plummeted into a residential neighborhood just west of the concrete apron, killing everyone on-board and injuring 43 people on the ground.

"Within one week of the crash, Chairman Aliannah Boresch, of the Planetary Transportation Safety Administration, sent a letter to your office stating that (a) never in living memory had the Ministry of Justice acted as it did in the Flight 1033 crash: 50 MOJ agents came into the crash zone only minutes after impact; (b) one MOJ agent proceeded into Edizon Control Tower and removed the sensor logs relating to Flight 1033, without asking permission; and (c) before the PTSA investigation could do so, the MOJ conducted 26 interviews, including witnesses and shuttle maintenance crews. The MOJ interviews were completed within 20 hours of the crash.

"Here is a statement from one of the on-site emergency medical technicians: 'Look, I drive an ambulance for one of the hospitals. On the afternoon of the crash, I was one of the first drivers dispatched to the site. I was on a mission of mercy and these thugs in dark suits stopped me from entering the area. There were a couple dozen of them — and they refused to show me any credentials. Friends of mine in the fire and police departments told me that they, too, were prevented from approaching the wreckage — which was still burning. These apparent government types were on location _before_ either the fire department or the police.'

"In another interview, a police officer stated: 'I was told to assemble my squad in Parchuette Park which is several blocks away from where the plane crashed. We were forbidden by our brass from approaching the crash site. Nobody explained to us how and why the MOJ was able to keep us out of the crash site. The shuttle was smoldering, and we had reports of residents still trapped in the rubble of their houses. The higher-ups said it was upon orders of the Ministry of Justice and the Palace. The words State Security were used.'

"And this statement from a sanitation employee of the Southside Municipal Landfill: 'The day after the crash, parts of the fuselage were brought here and buried. The orders came from downtown. Someone high on the food chain wanted certain parts of that plane put in a deep hole real damn quick.'"

Minister Syuuzen appeared to be staring out the window, bored and unconcerned. Kiyone looked at her boss, who indicated that she continue.

"ITEM: One day after the crash, your former aide Cristovao Kroka was appointed Undersecretary of Transportation, supervising the PTSA — the agency responsible for investigating the crash of Flight 1033.

"ITEM: Two days after the crash, Pauo Vhuatin, your former appointment secretary, became a top executive of Juraian Air Services. Vhuatin reportedly had no prior business experience. At the original PTSA crash hearings, he reportedly threatened media people with reprisals if they mentioned sabotage. And even before the crash, your personal attorney, Kano Masanobu, was the lawyer for Juraian Air Services and Kawafune Corp., which at the time retained the in-flight food catering concession."

"ITEM: Three days after the crash, Ms. Vorunto's employer, JNS Network News, ordered and demanded that her remains be cremated by the local mortician handling the matter — against the express wishes of her family. Later, the mortician was murdered in his business establishment, still an unsolved crime."

"That is an impressive array of coincidences and circumstantial evidence," Syuuzen scoffed.

"Yes, isn't it," Kiyone smiled, a glacial rictus that silenced the Minister's bluster. "May I continue?"

Szyuuzen snorted, returning his gaze to the window.

"Once Ms. Vorunto's grieving fiancée started going through her personal affects, he recovered her notes. This made him very suspicious, so he talked with Mr. Okabe's widow. Thoroughly enraged by now, he passed the information up through official channels. That is when we began looking into the allegations of espionage, particularly the missing witnesses. And the background of Officer Poressan."

"Excuse me, Kiyone. Minister, would you like some refreshment? You look a bit parched." Lady Funaho waited for his nod, and summoned her secretary. During the following silence, she studied the man intently, particularly his eyes, his posture, and the minute beads of sweat dappling his forehead. She glanced over at Seto, who had been performing the same exercise. Both raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Thank you, Mah Rrost-ah."

Kiyone waited for the secretary to leave, before returning to her notes. "Mr. Okabe's briefcase was not recovered from the crash site. It has disappeared...as have the five witnesses he located. And as for the late Officer Poressan, it turns out he is a phony. There is no employee by that name in the Drug Abuse Law Enforcement Agency. But DALE management is now very interested in this case, because they take great offense when someone purports to be one of theirs. We have been unable to backtrack the movements of Officer Poressan. He has no valid identification, no records, nothing. That is extremely suspicious behavior...unless you're a professional assassin or terrorist."

"That's a supposition!" Syuuzen snapped.

"Quite correct," Kiyone shrugged. "But an accurate one. You can be very sure we are spreading our net wide, Minister. We were able to scrape enough of his remains together for a tissue sample. We _will_ identify him."

Syuuzen sipped his drink.

"Of course, we do have other methods." Kiyone tapped her communicator. "Mah Rrost-ah? Would you ask our visitor to come in, please?"

##########

The Corral was a moon-sized volume of space whose boundary was marked with flashing buoys and broadcasting beacons. Its location was a Lagrangian point of gravitational balance between the planet Jurai and its moons. Its purpose was to serve as a gathering place for the Royal Trees, feeding on sunlight and patiently waiting for interesting events to unfold among their human Companions. Its present occupants consisted of Tsunami, Funaho, Karin, Mizuho, Mikagami, Ryu-oh, and the ten trees assigned to the Sentinel Squadron, led by Sumikenki.

The trees spent the bulk of their time meditating, or singing among themselves much as their ground-bound ancestors once had. They were a patient species, very ponderous of thought, very deliberate in their actions. They took great delight watching their human Companions, amused by the hustle and bustle of such a short-lived species. That the humans sought their help, involving them in their internal struggles, was just as diverting. On the whole, they enjoyed their lives immensely.

And Tsunami was very pleased with the arrangement. The mind that enclosed the Genesis Tree was vast, spread far beyond the confines of the Corral. Such a mind moved on many levels, considering a variety of problems and experiences. The entity had merged with the human-designed arboreal experiment nearly 20,000 years earlier, paving the way for communication between the participants. Tsunami had been manipulating events among the humans carefully for many generations, including the continuation of the Tree project. The Genesis Tree had produced many seeds over time, but few had survived. And of those, most had been dispersed among the humans, and lost; only those kept here, under the watchful eyes of the Juraian botanists, had successfully survived to maturity.

Progress had been slow and steady, but gaining momentum. Recent events had been very successful indeed. And sometimes, Fate rewarded the entity for its perseverance and patience, presenting Tsunami with a gift — such as the return of a prodigal seed.

##########

Funaho's office door slid open, and a middle-aged woman entered carrying a package. She bowed, her turquoise-colored locks sweeping across her face like a curtain. A gold chain swung outwards from her beasts, its glint causing Syuuzen to glance at it. He recognized the attached medallion and growled. "You can't use a telepath on me without a court order!"

"Well, you are partially correct, Minister," Funaho replied. "The law does require a court order and the cooperation of the accused. But the law also states that the Crown may _order_ the examination — with or without the consent of the accused."

"Do you honestly think that His Majesty will hesitate to do so, considering the facts?" Seto's face was seemingly immobile, matching her expressionless voice. "Knowing him as I do, he's just as liable to scan you himself."

"Now, see here — !"

"Calm yourself, Minister," Funaho interrupted. "Ms. Boletadaviev is not a telepath, she's a psychometrist."

"Eh? A what?"

"A psychometrist. She is able to acquire details about an object's past by merely touching it. You will find she is a Master Class Power Adept with an impeccable record. My department has used her services many times in the past, and we are most grateful for her assistance."

Syuuzen struggled into silence. His lips were pursed and his brows were furrowed — clear signs of intense calculation.

"Ms. Boletadaviev, what information were you able to gather?"

She set the package on the table in front of Funaho. "You were correct, Your Majesty. The organic residue did, indeed, belong to Officer Poressan."

"What is that?" Syuuzen asked, nodding towards the package.

"It is a partially burned jumpsuit, Minister," Kiyone answered. "The type is popular among skydivers and aerial enthusiasts. Quite common, really...but rather unexplainable, since it was found among the wreckage of Flight 1033."

"I don't understand."

"Fragments of the shuttle were spread over a four-block area, mostly structural remains of the aircraft. The bodies (well, what was left of them) were confined to a 40-meter square location. The aircrew certainly didn't carry such a jumpsuit aboard, and it seems unlikely for passengers in an orbital facility to be carrying one in their luggage."

"Humph. Then it must belong to one of the residents in the crash site."

"We considered that, too, Minister. But we were able to rule-out that possibility because the plane crashed in a retirement community. Not one resident of any of the shattered homes is physically capable of participating in such sports. It's lucky most of them were at the community center for their daily activities, or the death toll would have been much higher."

Syuuzen squirmed. "So what are you saying?"

"Well, we couldn't account for it, so we asked Ms. Boletadaviev to examine it. Ms. Boletadaviev?"

"As I said, it belonged to the DALE officer."

"_Alleged_ DALE officer," Kiyone corrected.

"Of course," the adept replied. "At any rate, the gentleman who last wore it experienced two over-riding emotions in the last few moments before its destruction."

"And those would be...?"

"A very savage elation, followed by a very profound horror."

"Can you elaborate a bit?"

"The man was a hunter, and he had been firing his handgun almost continuously. He was shooting at electronic components and people."

"Maybe it's just a stretch of the imagination, but could he have possibly destroyed the plane's computers before killing the passengers and crew?"

"That would fit my impressions."

"Now you're drawing conclusions from insufficient evidence!" Syuuzen snarled.

"Perhaps," Kiyone shrugged. "And the second emotion; horror, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"Caused by what?"

"This piece of fabric had been in contact with a harness, attached to some kind of mechanical device."

"A mechanical device, like a parachute or a vari-gee floater?"

"Yes. It was large and bulky. And while strapping it on, the gentleman discovered that the device had been tampered with, so that it no longer functioned. He was in a great deal of anguish, and kept repeating the phrase, 'double cut-out.'"

"And what does _that_ mean?" the Minister demanded.

"It's an espionage term for an assassin who is eliminated at the same time as his target, generally by his employer. An occupational hazard," Kiyone grinned.

"Well, that certainly provides several leads," Funaho said. "Thank you, Ms. Boletadaviev. Once again, your services have been timely and deeply appreciated."

"Always a pleasure, Your Majesty." The adept bowed to Funaho, then to Seto, and exchanged nods with Kiyone, before leaving quietly. The jumpsuit fragment lay on the table, only a meter away from the sweating Minister.

"You still haven't explained the — " Syuuzen began.

"Charge of treason?" Kiyone finished the question for him. "Just be patient."

"My patience is wearing thin, Commander Qualston. The accusation of treason is extremely serious; It must be heavily documented, and the burden of proof lies with the State."

"Indeed," Kiyone replied. "We have compiled a substantial dossier on you, Minister Syuuzen. Obviously, we cannot reveal the full extent of its contents at this point, but I will read you some of the highlights.

"ITEM: There has been a recent increase in the number of incidents involving foreign agents operating on Homeworld. That these foreign agents are actively stealing Juraian financial, industrial, and military secrets. That these foreign agents are assassinating eyewitnesses and recalcitrant or vacillating accomplices. And that these foreign agents appear to operate with impunity and enjoy immunity from MOJ authorities.

"ITEM: We have reason to suspect that as many as 22% of all Members of Parliament have been recently bribed or are being subjected to blackmail. The purse-strings for this effort appear to belong to the Ascenn'an Bank of Interstellar Commerce and Credit. The logical goal appears to be ABICC expansion within the borders of the Empire.

"ITEM: One of your own interns, Ascelia Borom, was murdered in broad daylight. An MOJ spokesperson claimed the shooting was the result of a 'robbery gone awry.' Ms. Borom had confided to friends and family that she had witnessed you turning Juraian national secrets over to one Hav'oratil Metge. Citizen Metge is the president of the ABICC branch office here on Jurai, but is also reputedly the regional director of Ascenn'an Intelligence.

"ITEM: The five witnesses discovered by Jame'Wa Okabe and Kanrisisko Vorunto were all reported missing within days of the crash of Flight 1033.

"ITEM: Zha'vequail Metge, Hav'oratil Metge's brother, is also the director of Benab'sastu Heavy Munitions, the Ascenn'an firm that makes and markets naval artillery — and whose products have been found in the wreckage of destroyed pirate vessels in and around the border between Jurai, the Remza Union, and the Couef Collective...all neighbors of the Ascenn'ans.

"ITEM: Foreign intelligence sources are snickering over Ascenn'an Intelligence claims they have documentation showing agents of the Juraian Minister of Justice receiving suitcases loaded with negotiable certificates, in return for Juraian financial, industrial and military secrets — including copies of the super-secret test results for the Masaki Driver. The Ascenn'ans, so say these sources, are insisting that they _bought_ such items, fair and square, from MOJ representatives. As the Ascenn'an officials are quoted as saying, 'If there is a problem in this type of 'routine' business transaction, then the Juraians should re-examine their own concept of business ethics.'"

"How interesting," Funaho mused. "What we would perceive as treachery and espionage, the Ascenn'ans identify as 'normal commercial practices' in a C.O.D. deal..."

"And I would add that the pirate activity in that area has suffered a marked decline in the last year," Seto said, staring at Syuuzen through slitted eyelids, "thanks to the cooperative efforts of the Juraian Military, the RU Navy, and the Galaxy Police. Perhaps the Ascenn'an efforts to destabilize that border have been greatly obstructed, forcing a change in strategy?"

"I wouldn't know anything about that," Syuuzen huffed.

"Or care much, either, huh?" Kiyone asked, ignored the Minister's glare.

"I've had enough of this," Syuuzen declared. "This has been a tedious exercise, and plainly insulting. Either charge me or release me, but no more innuendoes and false facts. I have nothing to confess, and nothing more to say."

"Very well, Minister, have it your way," Funaho shrugged. Syuuzen started to rise, a smug smile painted on his face. "Commander, place the Minister under arrest, charged with murder, accessory to murder, and treason. I'm sure the charges can be further refined with a bit of research."

Kiyone's grin was feral and intense as she gestured to the guards. Gleaming muzzles dropped into position.

"This is preposterous! How dare you accuse me of — "

"Stow it, Minister. You can cooperate calmly and quietly, or you will be _assisted_ into compliance. The choice is yours."

Syuuzen's bluster was clearly wasted on the wolf pack. Though he ceased to fidget, his face remained flushed. "I am entitled to legal counsel."

"You can make the call after you have been processed," Kiyone replied. She gestured again, and one of the guards opened the door and backed through it. The invitation was obvious.

"You are making a big mistake," he said to the women sitting behind the table.

"How so?" Funaho replied.

"You cannot keep the Masaki drive a secret for long. It will spread to all our neighbors eventually, and then out of human space entirely. It is too important a discovery. Someone is going to get very rich; if not me and my associates, then one of my competitors. Perhaps you should deal with the devil you know, rather than the devils you don't know."

"We will keep that...suggestion...in mind, Minister."

Syuuzen snapped a bow and departed, ringed by uniforms. Kiyone bowed respectfully and followed them, closing the door behind her.

There was mutual silence, as each woman considered the ramifications of the previous hour. Their subsequent responses were entirely different, however:

* Funaho sighed, mentally calculating the time and resources she would be budgeting for the investigation and trial. The man's guilt was obvious; she wanted his accomplices.

* Seto chuckled with delight, mentally grasping the windpipe on yet another pirate — albeit a much shrewder and more sophisticated example than she commonly dealt with.

Funaho turned to look at her mentor, shaking her head with admiration. "You do enjoy these spectacles, don't you?"

"Absolutely," Seto replied. "I relish the chance to rub their faces in their own guilt, and watch their eyes as justice finally catches up to them."

"Small compensation for their victims."

"True. But perhaps the dead can sleep a bit easier knowing that these vermin will cause no more grief."

Funaho stood, stretching stiff muscles. She wandered over to the window, idly watching the groundskeepers laboring in the late afternoon sunshine.

Seto soon joined her. "You know, he raised a valid issue. We can't keep that technology isolated for long. If someone doesn't successfully steal the plans, then one of our ships will be hi-jacked. Either way, the genie will be out of the bottle, and at our expense."

"Yes, I know," Funaho replied. "But I see no real alternative."

"I do: share the technology with our allies."

Funaho turned on her, round-eyed. "Are you serious?"

"Absolutely. License the design to recoup our research investment, and strengthen diplomatic ties at the same time."

"I must say, I did not expect you (of all people) to recommend that."

Seto shrugged. "One must face facts, old friend. Chasing pirates can be fun, but it gets expensive and tedious after a while. Better to root-out the cause of the disease rather than the symptoms. Besides, it's time we united all of humanity under one government."

"And why is that?"

"Because united, we stand a better chance against Tokimi."

"How do you know about Tokimi?" Funaho gasped, then pressed her lips together. This was her mentor, after all — if _anybody_ could ferret-out that bit of classified information, Seto could.

"Really, Funaho," Seto chuckled. "Anyway, here's another concept worth considering: we need to start reaching-out to the non-human nations around us. We need friends and allies, not quarrelsome neighbors that will turn on us in times of trouble. The K'vimm Incursion was a wake-up call."

##########

Seina was about to take a sip of the hot tea when he felt the Link activate. He was always aware of it, of course; that presence in the back of his mind that often _shifted_ like a sleeper beneath the covers. It was disconcerting, if harmless.

Karen had been watching his face, waiting for his approval on the tea, when he paused. She saw his eyes widen, pupils dilated, nostrils flaring briefly. The cup trembled in his hand. "Is something wrong?"

"Kiriko?" Hakuren asked, startled by her similar actions.

"It's Tsunami," Kiriko replied, looking over at Seina for confirmation. "She sends greetings to Mizuki and Seina's Companion." Kiriko's tree was a sapling, encased in its protective Habitat Module buried within the superstructure of the K2. Kiriko subconsciously twisted the ring she wore, which provided the direct-to-skin contact required for communication between the species. Seina could only communicate with the mecha when he sat in the command module, his hands spread over the controlling orbs — but he could still feel the surge of emotion from the seed, even separated by two-and-a-half kilometers of vacuum.

He nodded in agreement.

##########

Both women paused, a sudden burst of communication racing through their minds. Funaho's Companion Mizuho, and Seto's Companion Mikagami, relayed Tsunami's greeting. The women exchanged smiles.

"That is very good news indeed," Funaho said. She turned towards her desk. "I'm sure Tenchi received that message as well."

"Undoubtedly," Seto replied.

"Now the botanists can determine if the seed can be extracted from that mecha and grown to maturity. What a marvelous addition to the fleet that would be."

"Indeed. Even so, it is quite formidable now. I saw it crush Tarant Shunk's battleship into oblivion, and disable his entire pirate fleet before reducing most of it to scrap. Impressive doesn't begin to describe it."

"Which raises the issue of Seina's future," Funaho said, descending into her desk chair. "The GP doesn't own the mecha — according to salvage laws, Seina owns it. If the seed can be safely grown, it becomes the property of Jurai. That is non-negotiable. Since the seed has bonded with him, does he accompany the seed, or does he remain with the GP?"

Seto gestured absently with her fan, no answer forthcoming.

##########

Tenchi had received Tsunami's broadcast; he just wasn't in any position to do anything about it.

At the moment, he was sitting on his throne, the actual, physical, centuries-old, hand-carved seat of an interstellar empire. All things considered, it wasn't particularly comfortable (which was just one of the reasons it was seldom occupied). It was placed in the center of a raised dias, upon which stood his consorts, spaced at equal distances around him. Ayeka, Mihoshi, Ryoko, Sasami, and Washu were dressed in the same elaborate formalwear that he himself had (reluctantly) donned. None of them were smiling; they shared a common discomfort level — and a common refusal to admit to it.

Though Tenchi looked dour and imperious, he was actually engaged in a lively discussion with his entourage via mind links:

Sasami_ - Tenchi, Tsunami has just broadcast a message!_

Tenchi_ - I know_

Ayeka_ - I received it, too, relayed through Ryu-oh_

Ryoko_ - What does she have to say?_

Sasami_ - She sent a greeting to Seina's mecha and Kiriko's Companion_

Ryoko_ - Then they must be well in-system by now_

Washu_ - I can verify that, if you'd like_

Tenchi_ - No, no need. Mihoshi?_

Mihoshi _- Yes, Tenchi?_

Tenchi_ - Can you notify Trinnard?_

Mihoshi _- I'd be happy to_

Ayeka_ - Just do it discreetly; the introductions are about to commence_

Beyond the dais was the large chamber that was the officially-designated throne Room. The walls were lined with marble columns and richly-sculpted hardwoods from a hundred worlds. Busts and portraits of past monarchs were displayed proudly and elaborately, and exotic flags and tapestries hung from the ceiling. It was reserved for ceremonies of high pomp and pageantry, such as Tenchi's coronation, and for dazzling the occasional visiting dignitary.

Like the giant psuedo-caterpillar entities that stood at the base of the dias.

There were five of them, wearing their own equivalents to rich finery and elaborate jewelry. Ten pairs of legs peeked beneath the brocade, and three sets of manipulator limbs (each pair shorter than the one behind it) that gestured and fluttered as they spoke. And they did speak, at least among themselves, although the lead creature did all the talking to the humans.

And there were a _lot_ of humans present. The chamber was filled with curious peers and invited council members and guild representatives and the obligatory flag rank military officers. The noise level was considerable, even when efforts were made to keep it muted. And escorting the troop of car-sized aliens was a contingent of Galaxy Police officials, led by a grizzled veteran in a uniform covered in decorations and citations. He did most of the talking for everyone, serving as intermediary between the Emperor and the diplomats.

Tenchi_ - Geez, those things are ugly. And big! They look like something out of my garden_

Ayeka_ - Do not judge them by their appearance, Beloved. They are highly intelligent_

Ryoko_ - I have to agree with Tenchi on this one. Eeeeww..._

Sasami_ - I don't think they're so bad, although those cross-shaped mouths take a little getting used to…_

Tenchi -_ What do you know about these aliens, Mihoshi?_

Mihoshi_ - Well, according to Uncle Marrim — _

Ryoko_ - 'Uncle' Marrim? That old fart is a relative of yours?_

Mihoshi_ - No, but he's a friend of my grandfather's. I've known him forever_

Ryoko_ - Oh_

Mihoshi_ - Anyway, according to Uncle Marrim they are from a very large empire on the far side of the galaxy_

Washu_ - He's right. Jurai only occupies the spur of one galactic arm; their empire stretches a quarter of the length of an entire arm! And it contains many more subject nations than ours does. They deserve a great deal of respect_

Ryoko_ - Yeah, whatever_

Washu_ - Well, they also have three sexes..._

Ryoko_ - Huh!_

Washu -_ I thought that might get your attention_

Sasami_ - How does that work?_

Washu _- 3% of the population are male, 29% are female, and the rest are drones_

Sasami_ - So, the males rule?_

Washu_ - No. They are more like a priest class — actually, they are primarily walking sperm banks_

Mihoshi_ - Right. The females hold all of the actual power_

Ryoko_ - As it should be_

Tenchi_ - Yet another royal harem..._

Ayeka_ - And the drones?_

Washu_ - Disposable labor, of low intelligence and short life spans_

"Your Majesty," Marshall Marrim Sayyam continued, unaware of the private conversation, "I am pleased to introduce the Voudrathi Ambassador."

"It is an honor to meet such a distinguished sapient," Tenchi replied, grateful for the coaching his family had provided. "Does the Ambassador have a name?"

"Even if she had a name in the human sense, we couldn't pronounce it," Sayyam replied, a rueful smile on his face. The device he carried converted all of the humans' remarks into a complicated series of squawks and screeches, which elicited an occasional reaction from the aliens. "These AI translators can only construct careful approximations between our cultures. And the Voudrathi palate is so radically different from ours that our tongues cannot form the sounds correctly. I'm afraid that, even after spending the last twelve years living in Voudrathi space, I still have a great deal of difficulty communicating with them. They are a patient and tolerant species, or I might have accidentally started a war long ago."

"We are indeed fortunate that the GP assigned you to escort their vessel into Jurai space."

"It is I am who fortunate, Your Majesty. I have not seen the stars of home for a very long time."

"Tell me, how long did it take to traverse the distance between our empires?"

"Eleven months of ship time, but we chose to circumnavigate the center, well above the galactic arms, to avoid the endless requests for permission to cross national borders."

"Ah, of course. Judging by the impressive size of the Voudrathi vessel, I can see where its presence might be misinterpreted."

Two weeks earlier word had come to the admiralty that a giant alien starship was approaching Jurai space and issuing hailing messages on the GP standard frequencies. It wasn't until a contingent of the Juraian Navy had intercepted the nine-kilometer-long behemoth that they had discovered the GP Cruiser accompanying it. 'A fish leading a whale,' as one wag put it. The Navy was still edgy over the K'vimm Incursion, and so was leery of granting permission for the alien vessel to approach (and secretly doubting that they could do anything to prevent it). However, the response that came straight from the Palace permitted the intruder to continue — under escort of course — because Mihoshi and Washu had both assured Tenchi that the vessel was peaceful, and the GP envoy was legitimate.

The leviathan was now parked in a solar orbit nearly a million kilometers beyond Jurai. Just in case.

"And what brings the Voudrathi delegation all this way?" Tenchi asked.

"To meet with you, Your Majesty. The tales of your accomplishments have reached clear across the galaxy."

Tenchi _- Uh, oh..._

Ayeka_ - Patience, Beloved. It might be best to determine just what tales they have heard_

Ryoko_ - Damn impressive, though — but, then, I've always said that!_

"Could you be more specific, Marshall? Such stories usually get exaggerated far beyond flattery into outright fantasy."

"Of course, Sire," Sayyam replied. He addressed a question towards the alien, and the translator converted it. Moments later the Ambassador replied, its four jaws opening and closing in random patterns, the tongues behind the teeth coiling like angry serpents. The translator hummed briefly before whispering its explanation. "She has come to see your wings."

There was a low rumble from the audience.

"My _wings_?" Tenchi asked, unable to keep the surprise from his voice.

"Indeed, Your majesty. There is apparently some religious significance to your wings."

"But I don't have any wings."

"That is true, Sire, but that is the story related to them, and the impetus of their journey here."

"Excuse me, Marshall Sayyam," Washu said, drawing all eyes upon her. "Could it have something to do with the fact that the males of their sacerdotal elite bear wings?"

"That may be part of it, Your Majesty. But I believe the matter is more theological than teleological or political in scope."

Ryoko_ - The males have wings? How can something so heavy fly?_

Washu_ - How do you fly? You have no wings_

Mihoshi_ - Good point_

Washu_ - Actually, the males are much smaller, about the size of an eagle_

Sasami_ - Wow...do they look like butterflies?_

Ayeka_ - What kind of an environment did this species evolve in?_

Washu_ - Dense forests, lots of large predators to overcome. And the Voudrathi are far older than humanity_

"What if I can't produce any wings?"

"Unknown, Sire. They do not say."

##########

"We have another in-coming message," Neeju announced.

"Who from?" Seina asked.

"A representative of the Order of The Flaming Sword!" she replied, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Everyone else in the chamber turned to smile at their husband.

"Ok," he shrugged, "let's hear it."

Neeju tapped a key, and a secondary image appeared next to the main viewer. A very muscular man wearing the robes of the Order greeted them. His long, blue-black hair and piercing black eyes framed a large nose and soft chin. His smile, though, was broad and blinding.

"Captain Seina Yamada, on behalf of your patron and sponsor, His Majesty Sir Tenchi Masaki Jurai, I bid you welcome. I am Sir Trinnard Qualston, and I will be your Advisor on all matters pertaining to your imminent Knighthood ceremony."

There was a collective squeal from Seina's wives; he just smiled nervously. "Thank you, Sir Trinnard. I appreciate any and all help you are able to render. Do we have a formal time and place to meet?"

"It would be best if we met at the earliest available opportunity. I'm sure you will have plenty of questions, and I can explain the proper protocols for you. Subsequent meetings are then easier to arrange based upon your schedule and comfort level."

Seina relaxed. The man had obvious experience dealing with novices. Tenchi had also confided that Trinnard was a close friend, and very capable. "We won't reach orbit for another..."

"Twelve hours," Kiriko offered.

"...Twelve hours. How can we reach you?"

"You can contact me through the Order. I am forwarding the information now," he replied, hands visible typing on a keyboard.

"Thank you."

"I am at your disposal, Captain Yamada. I look forward to meeting you."

"I'll contact you as soon as possible, Sir Trinnard. Kamidake II out." Seina broke the connection, and his wives howled with glee.

**ACT 2 — SATURDAY MORNING**

_Sometimes it's hard to be a woman  
Giving all your love to just one man  
You'll have bad times, and he'll have good times_  
Doin' things that you don't understand  
_But if you love him, you'll forgive him  
Even though he's hard to understand  
And if you love him, oh, be proud of him_  
'_Cause after all he's just a man._

_Stand by your man, give him two arms to cling to  
And something warm to come to  
When nights are cold and lonely.  
Stand by your man, and show the world you love him  
Keep giving all the love you can.  
Stand by your man.  
Stand by your man, and show the world you love him  
Keep giving all the love you can.  
Stand by your man._

Title: "Stand By Your Man"  
Artist: Tammy Wynette

The Imperial Palace was a large, approximately cross-shaped building, many centuries old, lavishly decorated, and off-limits to the general population. Located in the center of an island, it was surrounded by gardens and rings of office buildings, private residences, dormitories for the Imperial Guard, the spaceport and its hangers. No one got near the Palace unless invited. The building's internal volume was apportioned along functional lines:

* One whole wing of the Palace was devoted to public functions, and was surrounded by extensive parking lots and security scanners. The grand ballroom was here, as was the throne room, the ceremonial banquet hall and the adjacent kitchens. Scattered throughout the remaining spaces were an assortment of storage rooms, foyers, and small audience chambers.

* The opposite wing (and just as huge) was dedicated to the bureaucratic machinery necessary to support the monarchy. The warren of hallways and corridors here differed little from an ordinary office building; it was stuffed full of offices and cubicles and meeting rooms and a cafeteria and a computer center.

* The other two wings were smaller in size and were devoted to the suites and apartments of the Royal Family. One wing housed the Emperor and his consorts, complete with an informal dining room, ballroom, and an onsen. The opposite wing was reserved for the Emperor's extended family, as well as the guest facilities.

All this, of course, was explained to the Yamada family as it was shuttled from lunar orbit. They would be occupying a guest suite, since Seina was being sponsored into his knighthood by his old neighbor and schoolmate.

Seina's serail was ecstatic, not surprisingly.

Seina himself was rather more reserved about the whole operation, and expressed this sentiment to Sir Trinnard. They were sitting in the observation blister of the shuttle, watching the Palace complex growing as they descended. Seina's wives were hanging on every word.

"I shouldn't give it too much concern, Captain. You'll only be here a few days at most, and I would recommend that you take full advantage of the pampering you'll receive. The chef here is on call night and day, but his services probably won't be needed, since Princess Sasami will likely attend to all of your meals personally."

Seina flinched at the boisterous approval voiced by his family. Actually, their reactions surprised him: his wives were all members of the aristocratic and patrician classes...they should be used to such amenities.

"Oh, Seina, you just don't understand," Amane replied. "This is the Imperial palace — how many people can say they slept under the same roof as the Emperor of Jurai and his family, and broke bread with the most powerful human being in the galaxy?"

Seina had trouble thinking of his boyhood friend as being so important. The few times they had talked of late, Tenchi had seemed as pedestrian as ever, still as patient and as quiet as their years in Okayama.

"Besides, Dear, not all of us were raised in such luxury," Ryoko added. Her own wealth was a recent acquisition, and she was still struggling with it (having spent so much of her life trying to attain it).

Seina had to nod his head in agreement. His own income was modest compared to his wives', but still impressive by Earth standards.

"And the honor of it all..." Hakuren added. "This is just so marvelous!"

Below them, the campus was painted with the long shadows of recent sunrise. The grass glistened with diamond-like glitter as dewdrops reflected the early morning sun. The landing pad swelled in size, and two vehicles — a limousine and a cargo transport — could be seen waiting. As they watched, robe-swathed individuals could be seen climbing out of both vehicles.

"We'll touch down in a moment," Trinnard cautioned. He gestured towards the doll-sized figures. "H-m-m-m-m, looks like you have a welcoming committee."

"Who would be meeting us?" Seina wondered.

"Well, the concierge for sure...that must be him by the lorry. He'll be taking your luggage up to the Residence. As to the others...oh, my."

"Lady Seto!" Suiren exclaimed.

"Yes," Kiriko nodded, " And that looks like Airi and Minaho behind her. Those other two ladies are — "

"Former Empress Funaho and Former Empress Misaki," Seina said. His wives all turned to look at him, surprised. "I've met them before."

"You certainly swing in high circles, don't you, Captain Yamada? At least they're smiling, even at this early hour!"

"Yeah," Seina replied nervously.

##########

The dining room in the Imperial Suite was modest in size, compared to the larger facilities on the floor below, or the massive formal facility in an adjacent wing of the palace. This room was cozy, comfortable, well-lit, with windows that looked upon the gardens, and doors that opened onto the veranda and galley. The table could be expanded when necessary, and plenty of chairs were kept in a nearby closet. When not being used as a commissary, Sasami did her studies here, Washu often confiscated a corner for her spectral keyboard, and many family conferences were held over tea and snacks...much like the current early-morning discussion.

"Well, now that I've seen the official log of that audience, I can see why you're perplexed," Funaho said.

"You don't suppose that ambassador meant the Lighthawk Wings, do you?" Minaho asked.

"H-m-m-m-m, interesting notion," Washu replied. "That raises quite a number of questions."

"Like what?" Tenchi asked, stretching his legs beneath the table and crossing them at the ankles.

"Well, for starters, how did she hear about them? Then there's the little matter of Voudrathi Power sensitivity."

"_Are_ they sensitive?" Ayeka asked. She poured a cup of tea, which she handed to her husband. She began distributing cups to the room's other occupants.

"Who knows?" Washu shrugged. "I'm guessing 'yes' since most creatures have some sensitivity to paranormal activity. But as to their level of attributes..."

"Thanks," Ryoko said over the proffered cup. She sat cross-legged in mid-air, hovering beside Tenchi's chair. "I never really thought about non-human Power adepts before."

"Washu? Why did Tsunami choose humanity to partner with?" Sasami sipped at her own cup, eyes on the scarlet-haired adult across from her.

Washu's hand paused, her cup raised half-way to her lips. "I would think _you_ would be better able to answer that one."

Sasami shook her head. "I see more and more of her memories with each passing year, but not that deep yet."

"Why do you ask?" Mihoshi prompted.

"Because Tsunami is the greatest single Power adept in the galaxy. Yet she spends most of her time with humans. Could that be because humans are the most capable species at Power manipulation?"

"That's a pretty shrewd assessment, Sasami," Seto chuckled, a proud smile on her face. "Well done."

"Thanks," she replied, blushing.

"It makes sense, though," Washu said. "Airi, what does the GP have to say on the subject?"

"Not much," Airi replied. There are references, of course, but they are few and far between. It's not a particularly important topic for our analysts."

"Why is that?" Ryoko asked.

"Power adepts have a tendency to disrupt the local status quo. The standard policy is to evacuate all GP personnel at the first sign of political instability. They only deal with whoever (or whatever) is in power. Strict neutrality."

"I don't see how that posture can be maintained," Ayeka said. "The level of fraternization must be very high. Just look at Mihoshi."

"Well, I think it works for the most part," Airi replied, "but there are always exceptions."

"Then I'm one of the exceptions," Mihoshi announced, "because I'm _definitely_ biased towards the present Juraian ruler!" She smiled at her husband, who grinned back.

"I'm afraid my own files are rather thin on the subject, too," Funaho added. "We have very little intercourse with our galactic neighbors, and the handful of non-human races within our borders are very well-behaved and cooperative. Power manipulation seems to be an obsession only among humans."

"What of the Galaxy Academy?" Ayeka asked. "There should be plenty of information there on the subject."

"True, but it will take some time to dig it up," Washu replied. "Besides, anything we do there, or request of the faculty, gets immediate notice in all sorts of places."

"A definite cause for concern," Funaho agreed.

"Of even greater concern is what the Ambassador will do if she decides Tenchi has not produced the proper wings," Minaho cautioned. "Didn't Marshall Marrim say this was a religious matter? How irrational is she liable to become?"

"Have you scanned that vessel of hers?" Ryoko asked. "We might be able to see if it carries any advanced weaponry."

"According to the GP files, the Voudrathi employ ordinary directed-energy and projectile weapons technology," Airi answered. "Although there are liable to be some mighty large cannons on that ship."

"We cannot just slip an operative aboard it, tempting as that sounds," Funaho explained. "Such an action is clearly a violation of GP-negotiated protocols. And even overt probing could be misinterpreted. We don't know how the Voudrathi would react — only how humans would react. Basing the responses of the former upon the habits of the latter is a questionable practice."

"I'm afraid I have little experience with alien motivations," Airi said. "I do correspond with the administrators of the neighboring GP regional universities, but we seldom discuss anything of a volatile nature. I don't know if the Voudrathi would attempt to attack Jurai, or just say prayers to some god and blot us off their social calendar. My intuition says they wouldn't do anything hostile, but prudence dictates that we take certain precautions."

"I would have to agree with that assessment."

"Just what _could_ they do?" Ryoko asked.

"Militarily?" Washu replied. "Well, if it were me, and I was morally offended to the point of wanton destruction, I might toss a sunbuster bomb down the solar gravity well, or maybe a swarm of cobalt bombs at Jurai, or release some kind of nanovirus into Jurai's atmosphere, or — "

"Ok, ok, I got the message."

"I presume the admiralty is prepared for such contingencies?" Funaho asked.

"They'd better be," Washu said. "And I'll add a few eyes of my own, just in case."

"H-m-m-m-m..." Tenchi muttered, idly stirring his tea. All eyes turned to him.

"Yes, Beloved?" Ayeka asked.

"How coincidental is it that, not long after the K'vimm attempted to steal the Royal Trees, the Voudrathi show up?"

Washu_ - Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?_

Tenchi_ - You tell me. Is this Tokimi's style?_

Washu_ - ...Yes..._

Tenchi_ - We know Tokimi uses human agents, so it's only logical to assume there are non-human agents as well_

Washu_ - You're scaring me, My Little Guinea Pig_

Tenchi_ - But you'll consider the possibility?_

Washu_ - Absolutely_

"Well, Uncle Marrim did say that your fame has reached across the galaxy..." Mihoshi replied.

"When was the last time we got any official foreign visitors?" Tenchi asked.

"I don't even remember the last alien delegation," Funaho replied. "Three or four centuries at least."

"So, this is just a fishing expedition?"

"Sure looks like it." Funaho smiled and nodded, her eyes crinkling mirthlessly.

"I don't understand the reference, Beloved," Ayeka said.

"Old Earth term," he grinned, "based upon the action of lowering a baited hook into the water to see what kind of fish bites it."

"E-e-e-w, how primitive."

"Just like me, I guess."

"No, Beloved, we are reforming you. You are becoming highly polished and well-versed in the social graces."

"Just remember: beauty is only skin-deep."

"Rubbish," Ayeka snorted.

Ryoko laughed. "It's ok, Tenchi — I like you just the way you are!"

"Me, too," Mihoshi added. Washu and Sasami nodded in agreement. Tenchi and Ayeka shared a private smile.

It grew quiet for a moment, as the Royal Family settled into a contemplative mood. That is, until Seto broke the spell: "Maybe we _should_ put on a little show for our visitors."

"What purpose would that serve?" Ayeka asked.

"Well, it's not unreasonable to assume that they are here to assess our defensive capabilities," Seto replied. "Their home is an awful long way away, but if motivated enough they could decide to invade — and it sounds like they have _enormous_ resources to call upon."

"True, and they may not even be the ones to worry about," Funaho said, stirring her tea for emphasis. "If they report back to their neighbors that we are vulnerable, their neighbors may take the initiative. It all depends upon how territorial the species is."

"Remember," Washu said, "their empire is several times the size of ours. For that matter, several times the size of Jurai and the other human nations combined."

Funaho nodded, and happened to glance at her mentor; Seto's face had settled into the closed mask she often assumed when in deep concentration...and that usually spelled trouble for someone.

There were sounds from the common room, as the door opened and many pairs of feet trod on the carpeting. "Anybody here?"

"In here, Hastaba," Sasami replied.

A moment later, Misaki entered the dining room, trailed by the entire Yamada family. "Are we interrupting something?"

"No," Tenchi replied, "we were just chatting. Have you eaten breakfast yet?"

"Uh, no," Seina answered hesitantly, still half-afraid of violating some unknown protocol.

"Good!" Sasami beamed. "We just finished, and there's plenty left. Now, Tenchi, you fetch some more chairs; Washu, you expand the table; and you folks," she pointed at Seina and his wives, "march right on in here." She hustled into the kitchen.

"Never argue with Sasami about food," Tenchi advised, rising.

"Or anything else," Ryoko added, floating behind him.

Washu reached under the table, her hand patting the bottom until she found what she wanted. She turned the appropriate knob, and the table started expanding in all directions, like a shallow puddle. Those occupying chairs casually slid them backwards, since each floated effortlessly a comfortable distance off the floor. Tenchi and Ryoko started setting empty seats in the new gaps, where they hovered at a neutral height.

Tenchi returned to his seat, and Ryoko returned to her place beside him, both watching the Yamada serail begin to file out of the kitchen. Seina settled into the empty chair nearest Tenchi, while his wives began to fill the remaining vacant seats.

"Good thing we keep an ample supply of spare chairs," Mihoshi chuckled.

"Now, what were we discussing?" Seto prompted. "Ah, I remember: we were contemplating a little show for the Voudrathi Ambassador."

"What kind of show?" Kiriko asked.

"A show of force," Washu answered. "Sabre-rattling, chest-thumping, the usual aggressive posturing."

"Why?"

"Prudence," Ayeka replied. "When the Ambassador returns home, she needs to inform her superiors — and their neighbors and allies — that provoking Jurai is a bad idea."

"Is that wise?" Neeju asked. "If this is their first official visit here, shouldn't they be given a cordial reception?"

"They have been given a cordial reception. Now they must be convinced that we are confident about international relations because we are secure in our strength."

"That logic works well enough with humans, but how will the Voudrathi respond to any blatant muscle-flexing?"

"That's a good question," Mihoshi added. "Uncle Marrim lived among them for twelve years, and he still can't predict how they will respond."

"I think this falls under the category of 'universal constants,'" Funaho said. "It seems to me that no predator, anywhere in the galaxy, fails to hesitate before attacking prey that is liable to inflict serious damage."

Tenchi_ - Unless the prey is injured or sabotaged before the fight_

Washu_ - You're really starting to scare me, Dear_

Tenchi_ - Just another lesson learned from Grandpa_

"I propose," Funaho continued, "some type of display for the Voudrathi...something impressive...something that would give them serious pause before committing any time and resources into an invasion."

"What do you favor, Tenchi?" Seto prompted.

All eyes settled upon the Emperor, who would ultimately bear the responsibility of any decision.

"I'm not so sure it's such a good idea to reveal our full capabilities," Tenchi said. "If I may quote one of the leaders from Earth, 'Walk softly and carry a big stick.'"

"Who said that?" Seina asked Tenchi.

"American President Theodore Roosevelt."

"Oh."

"You raise a valid point," Seto said, "but it may be moot. If we are starting to get noticed by our neighbors, it may be because they already know some of our secrets. Perhaps we should unveil the remainder, and let our neighbors know the truth of their existence."

"Baring our fangs in warning?" Ryoko asked.

"Indeed," Ayeka confirmed.

"And who is revealing our secrets to our neighbors?" Washu asked.

"We had a discussion with one possible leak just yesterday," Funaho answered. "He implied there are others. We," she gestured towards Seto, "hope to encourage his cooperation into providing us with their identities."

"You still haven't answered my question, Tenchi. What do you favor?"

"In light of that information, I would agree with you. Show them something impressive."

"Like the Masaki Drive?" Ryoko asked.

"That's a good place to start," Funaho nodded.

"Perhaps a formation of fast escorts — "

"I know something even more impressive," Sasami said. "It was spoken quietly, tentatively, yet every ear heard it, and every head swung around to look at her.

"Go ahead, Dear," Misaki prompted.

"They want to see 'wings'? Show them the Lighthawk Wings — _all_ of them — and all under Tenchi's control."

"Uh, wait a minute..." Tenchi started to say, but Sasami cut him off.

"Tenchi, it wasn't all that long ago that you merged yours and Tsunami's wings together and made a dimensional doorway. What if you used all of the wings available? Tsunami's, Funaho's — "

Ayeka: "Ryu-oh's."

Misaki: "Karin's."

Funaho: "Mizuho's."

Seto: "Mikagami's,"

Kiriko: "Mizuki's."

"Don't forget my Companion," Seina added.

"And my wings, Sweetie," Ryoko said, laying a hand on her husband's shoulder.

"And the Sentinel Squadron's," Sasami finished. "Just think of it!"

Once again, all eyes focused on the Emperor of Jurai, who sat staring back. After a few moments of silence, he shrugged. "I'm not sure I can handle that much energy."

"Oh, I don't know," Washu said, a lopsided grin on her face. "I seem to recall a monstrous pattern scanner someone created by just tapping into his wives' Power attributes..."

"Yes, Beloved, the principle is identical."

"How many wings is that?" Mihoshi asked.

"Over forty," Washu replied.

"You don't have to generate those wings, Tenchi," Sasami added, "you just have to guide them."

"It'll be a piece o' cake!" Ryoko grinned, and planted a supporting kiss on his cheek.

Tenchi shook his head. "I repeat, I don't know if I can handle that much energy."

"Only one way to find out!" Washu cackled.

Tenchi's doubting frown was met by a wall of encouraging grins and fascinated stares.

###########

Seto was standing on the veranda, breathing the ion-enriched morning air, listening to the birds chirping and the wind sweeping through the trees. Such tranquil moments were rare, and usually short in duration. Behind her, the door slid open spilling a cacophony of voices and clattering dishes, and she knew her moment of solitude had been extinguished. She sighed, produced her ever-ready fan, as the closing door cut-off the sounds from the dining room.

"I would like to compliment you, Lady Seto."

"About what, Hakuren?"

"How you were able to manipulate events so successfully."

"Whatever do you mean?" Seto's fan twitched lazily, like a cat's tail.

"When we came to Jurai as representatives of the Remza Union, seeking assistance with the pirate incursions."

"As I recall, I received you and your Kardesshibelar with open arms."

"They were not my Kardesshibelar then; we were not even friends, just teammates. And I must confess to a certain...reluctance...about being attached to your personal staff. It did not seem the proper way to acquire the aid we needed."

"What better way was there to observe our own efforts than being attached to my staff?"

"I didn't have an alternative; just the opinion that it seemed inadequate."

Seto shrugged, her fan casting colored reflections across her face.

"Nonetheless, Milady, you seem to have organized events with stunning rapidity."

"Perhaps some of Seina's luck rubbed off on me...?"

"I cannot believe you put much reliance on the whims of chance."

"Chance favors the prepared mind," Seto replied.

"That is my point, Milady. You seem to have been well-prepared for the opportunities that arose."

"Contingency planning is an essential, Hakuren. As the team leader, surely you had experience with the practice?"

"I'm afraid my focus was more tactical than strategic."

"Ah." Seto's fan wavered, bisecting sunbeams and tossing them in random directions.

"In retrospect, becoming Seina's Patron seems to have been the pivotal action that opened a lot of doors for you, and at virtually no expense."

"What kind of doors?"

"For Seina, his admission to the GP Academy was assured; for us, introduction to a possible solution to our pirate problem; for yourself, the acquisition of a valuable tactical resource."

"One must learn to recognize opportunities, Hakuren."

"I endeavor to, Milady. I have much to learn."

"You are still young. There is ample time."

"True. I would also like to say that I admire the way you resolved the personal issues among my Juraian Kardesshibelar. You recognized the aggressive tendencies of Amane and Ryoko, Kiriko's feelings of inadequacy, and Neeju's need for political asylum. The resolution for each issue was truly inspiring."

"Oh?"

"By facilitating the reunion of Ryoko with her grandfather, his subsequent investiture as the Baltan king, and the quiet erasure of her criminal record, she was free to remain in the GP. By smoothing Amane's father's ruffled feathers over her career choice, and her participation in that GP fashion show, it strengthened her resolve to remain in the GP. By arranging Kiriko's bonding with Mizuki, she was able to compete on equal terms with Amane and her fortune, and Ryoko and her Baltan title. And by providing Neeju with a protected environment, where her skills as a councilor could defuse the intense rivalry over Seina, as well calm his nervous jitters, she earned her place aboard the K2."

"What did Seina receive from this bargain?"

"A future. And a family. And the transmutation of his gift."

"What did you Remza representatives receive?"

"On a professional level, we completed our mission by finding the answer to our nation's pirate problems. On a personal level, we found the man of our dreams."

"Seina Yamada?"

"Seina Yamada," Hakuren repeated proudly. "He was worth every bit of the public humiliation we went through, and any one of us would do it again in a heartbeat."

"I admire your spirit, Hakuren, even if your methods are unorthodox. Tell me, who's idea was the kidnapping?"

"Mine," Hakuren replied. "Not one of my better ideas, but we were desperate at that point. In hindsight, we should have used a tranquilizer on Seina and those kids."

"Mistakes are learning opportunities cloaked in disaster," Seto countered. "Tell me, did you come out here merely to compliment me on my accomplishments?"

"No, Milady, I had a request to make."

"I'm listening."

"I wish to become your protégé, Lady Seto. I wish to study strategy and tactics from the very best teacher."

"I'm flattered. I'm also wary."

"Of what?" Hakuren asked, sincerely puzzled.

"You are now a citizen of Jurai by virtue of your marriage to Seina. You also retain citizenship in the Remza Union, by virtue of your birth. You are also a member of the Galaxy Police, and have sworn an oath to uphold their neutrality. Tell me, how do you reconcile those allegiances? Where does your heart belong?"

"To Seina, first and foremost," Hakuren answered promptly. "Wherever he goes, I go."

"I see," Seto said, lapsing into silence. Her fan continued its pendulous dance, marking the passing moments with metronomic precision. Hakuren waited patiently. "You have talent, young lady. You would do very well with proper guidance. However, I will not train a potential enemy of Jurai. You see, my heart belongs to the empire. I am not yet convinced you know where your loyalties lie."

"Thank you for your honesty, Milady," Hakuren replied, crestfallen. "Is this a complete refusal, then?"

"By no means. The tide of politics is generally unpredictable — as are human actions. In two or three years, conditions may change completely." Seto lowered her fan and faced the stunned Hakuren squarely. "I will be watching you; and I promise we will continue this conversation in the near future. By then, my objections may be moot."

"You are most gracious, Lady Seto."

"Are there any other questions?"

"Well, there is one question. But I hesitate to ask it, since it may be too personal."

"Why don't you let me make that determination?"

"Very well." Hakuren hesitated, gathering her nerve. "Why did you turn down the throne? You were being groomed for it, and in all honesty you were much more qualified than either Azusa Masaki or his great-grandson..."

Seto studied the young woman over the edge of her fan. "What parameters did you use to make that assessment?"

"Your organizational skills, your military achievements, your diplomatic endeavors in the public and private sectors. Should I be more specific?"

"No," Seto grinned, impressed that the young woman had done her homework. "I won't hide behind false modesty. I'm very good at what I do; but these are not necessarily the qualities that make a good sovereign."

"I do not understand, Milady."

"I am ardent monarchist, Hakuren. I have worked hard for the system for a very long time, and it has rewarded me handsomely. But my efforts are grounded in philosophical preferences."

"I find that confusing, Lady Seto. You would put more power into one individual's hands, where it is more likely to corrupt or be corrupted? The Remza Union puts more faith in legislatures and parliaments, where administrative power is distributed."

"Who, then, assumes responsibility when failures occur? You would do well to study history."

"History is littered with the corpses of monarchies and dictatorships — "

"Those are not the same structures, Hakuren. A limited monarchy is the antithesis of totalitarianism."

"What makes you say that?"

"'A monarch with finite and constrained legal power stands separate from the state, and represents the spirit of the nation. A wise monarch lifts the ethical level of public discourse; a petty monarch at least curbs the excesses of the bureaucrats. A strong monarch fosters growth and national achievement; an incompetent monarch inspires creative dissent by the most disaffected — who nonetheless still retain the freedom to express their discontent."

"I had always assumed a monarch has absolute power."

"No. There are three types of power: _Imperium_, _Potentia_, and _Auctoritas_. The first is the power of the state, the faceless bureaucracy with the right to issue and enforce laws. The second is personal power, derived from wealth and shared obligations. But it is the third power, the power of Authority, that is the hallmark of the sovereign. It is the psychological and emotional leverage that comes with the personification of the national spirit. For most monarchs, _Imperium_ is extremely limited, _Potentia_ is available in some measure, but _Auctoritas_ is available in abundance — and in the end is the most effective. As I became aware of the full implications of these distinctions, I decided that my personality did not fit the proper mold. I am neither courteous, compassionate, nor particularly civilized; these are the qualities a sovereign must exhibit. I am too much a schemer and a scoundrel. Look at Tenchi Masaki Jurai — now _there_ is a monarch."

"But Azusa..?"

"In his youth, he was very courageous and ambitious. He could inspire loyalty, and was a very honorable man. But he had deep veins of conceit and pettiness, and over the years they grew like a festering sore. He was not a strong monarch, and in the end he had lost much of the respect once accorded him."

"The Remza Union always held him in high regard, Milady. As it does for His Majesty. But the RU feels that the monarchy is a hindrance, an obstruction to a truly representative form of government."

"We do not force any particular form of government on our subject worlds," Seto replied. "They are allowed to govern themselves. We control the star lanes, and the flow of commerce. We have found that a monarchy is a very suitable structure for that endeavor. It is, perhaps, the oldest human political framework in existence — immediately recognizable, and intuitively familiar to every human society. It speaks to the tribal impulses that are still an integral part of the human psyche, the need to swear fealty to one's chieftain. And it reacts quickly to crisis situations."

Hakuren studied the horizon, chewing on the facts presented her. Seto studied Hakuren, trying to intuit how the young woman would respond.

"Thank you, Lady Seto. For your time and insights. I have much to think about."

"It was my pleasure, Hakuren. We will talk again."

Hakuren bowed and backed away, while Seto faced the horizon once more, smiling behind her fan.

##########

"This is delicious!" Karen exclaimed, her tongue wrapping around the dark substance on the spoon. "What is it?"

"Chocolate pudding," Sasami replied. She was ladling portions into glass cups.

"Remarkable. It tastes familiar, somehow..."

"Don't you have chocolate in the Remza Union?"

"No, I've never heard of it before."

"I'll bet you have something pretty similar to it, though."

Karen shrugged.

"Washu says that nature will reuse the same answer to different problems, despite being in different places and different times."

"Convergent evolution?" Karen offered.

"Yeah, that's it. That explains why birds on a dozen different planets will all look alike. It also explains why sugar and chocolate will appear in lots of different places, but the names will be different."

"Well, they will never be exactly the same. The tastes will differ a little due to climate, and other variables."

"That's okay with me, I like the variety," Sasami nodded. "And I _really_ like Terran chocolate — and so does Tenchi, which is why we're having it for dessert tonight. Would you get the whipped crème from the preservator for me?"

"What's whipped crème?"

Sasami paused and stared, and then shrugged. Of course Karen wouldn't know what whipped crème was...neither did Sasami until her jisshibe's ship crashed on Earth. "It's that container on the top shelf, the one with the blue label. Yeah, that's it. Thanks."

Karen watched Sasami open the carton and begin scooping mounds of fluffy white substance onto the chocolate. "Where did you learn all these things?"

"H-m-m-m-m? What things?"

"How to cook, how to read recipes, all of it."

"From books, at least in the beginning. My hastaba and my kardestaba both liked to cook, and it was a way for us to spend time together. After a while, I started experimenting on my own. Washu thinks I have a heightened sense of chemical discernment, so I can make really subtle evaluations."

"Heightened sense of chemical discernment?"

"Touch, taste, smell...who knows. Maybe it's a Power attribute. While we were living on Earth (stranded, actually) I volunteered to do the cooking. Tenchi's father was a decent enough chef, since he had to be, but there was never much variety. I sure changed that!"

"But they let you do the cooking, at your age?"

"Oh, they were hesitant at first. And I wasn't so sure, either, since the appliances were rather primitive. But all it took was one or two meals, and they never questioned me again." Sasami finished preparing the dessert and started moving the cups into the preservator. "What about you, did you ever do much cooking?"

"No. Never. My parents always left that chore to the servants. I just never thought about it much."

"So why the interest now?"

"There are no servants aboard the K2," Karen smirked. "And there probably won't be. Someone has to do it. And watching you here, how much you enjoy yourself..."

"It depends upon your perspective, I guess. For me, this is not a chore but a hobby. I like to set all the ingredients out on the counter, spread out around the recipe, and figure out how I'm going to assemble the dish from so many pieces. Like a puzzle. My Hastabashibe Noike calls me a hunter/gatherer stalking wild game." Sasami paused to smile at a memory, and then smile at Karen. "Generally, you're good at something because you like doing it."

"I don't really know what I'm good at." Karen remembered her aristocratic childhood, the privileged schools, the university — even the short stint at the government training center. She had never really gotten her hands dirty before, since there was always someone else around to do it for her. And here she was watching a princess and future Empress think nothing of embracing what she always considered peasant labor.

"Well, this is as good a place to start as any." Sasami pulled a well-worn recipe book from a shelf and handed it to her. "Look through this for something that sounds good, and we'll make it for tonight. It's easy once you learn how."

Sasami retreated to check on her simmering kettles, and Karen tentatively opened the book.

##########

Washu sat in the command chair of the Kamidake II, hands resting upon her lap. Her spectral keyboard hovered before her, and beyond it stood Kiriko and Suiren. "Mind explaining your changes?"

"Of course," Kiriko replied. "Originally, there were the four workstations you defined to the ship's central computer. We expanded it to eight by broadening the scope of the original assignments."

"Why?"

"Seina lost his temper."

"Could you be a bit more specific?"

"There were four workstations and eight highly-trained, highly-competitive wives," Suiren explained. "The bickering was constant. Seina is normally very patient, but one day (not three weeks into the marriage) he reached his limit. He complained that, since this is a GP vessel, we should _all_ be wearing GP uniforms. And if we can't work together, maybe we'd better work in shifts — or just not serve with him. Then he stormed off the bridge, leaving eight very embarrassed and very upset women behind him."

"And...?"

"We reached a compromise. I redesigned the bridge layout, and Kiriko pulled some strings to get Hakuren, Gyokuren, Karen, and I enlisted in the GP. Seina later apologized for losing his temper, but he was absolutely correct. He motivated us into making some necessary changes."

"Ok. Describe the new layout for me."

Suiren gestured towards the seat to Washu's left. "This is Kiriko's seat. She is the executive officer, and her workstation monitors all of the others. She has subsystems for prioritizing and administering the collated information. Since she also maintains empathic ties with Mizuki and Fuku, she has an array of subsystems devoted to managing their integration to the ship's higher-level operations."

She continued moving to the left. "This is Hakuren's seat. She is our medical officer. There aren't usually many medical emergencies to attend to, so her workstation is actually devoted to psychological recording and profiling."

"This is Karen's seat. Her workstation is devoted to life support and environmental status. She watches over the sensor arrays in the ship's habitat module, as well as those in Mizuki's habitat module."

"This is Neeju's seat. Her workstation is devoted to communications. With her background as an ecclesiastical facilitator, and her political acumen, it just made sense."

"This is Gyokuren's seat. Her workstation is devoted to the library and sensor arrays. Not only is she a systems analyst by training, she is also widely-read and a master of trivia and arcane information. It seemed like a logical arrangement."

"This is my seat — engineering and ship's systems. I'm a trained cyberneticist with a strong background in astronautical engineering."

"This is Ryoko's seat. She is our weapons and tactics officer, since she was an experienced pirate captain who fought in a number of engagements. She controls the ship's offensive and defensive weapons systems."

"And this is Amane's seat. She is our astrogator and pilot."

"Interesting," Washu observed. "Hardware to the right, software to the left. I like it. But what about _this_ seat?"

"Seina's command chair actually has very few functions available to it. He doesn't need them."

"Why is the chair sitting on a raised platform?"

"Much of the new cabling is routed through it, as well as ventilators for the increased heat."

"Besides," Kiriko added, "he is our captain. We all want to be able to see him, no matter where we sit."

"I see," Washu replied, and lapsed into silence. "Let me ask you ladies something: is he very decisive? I mean, does he take charge when the need arises?"

"Yes," Kiriko replied. "Have you read the action reports from his encounter with the combined pirate fleet and rogue squadron, which recovered the mecha unit?"

"Yes, I have. Which is what makes me question this arrangement," she indicated the circle of seats. She reached over and tapped a key on her keyboard, and the K2's bridge dissolved around them. The words 'Simulation Terminated' hovered in the air. "Tell me, what's he like in bed?"

"Excuse me?" Kiriko replied, wide-eyed. Beside her, Suiren's mouth hung open.

"It's a simple enough question. What's he like? Is he energetic? Enthusiastic? Sullen? Petulant? Manipulative? A whiner? Gentle and compassionate? Ladies, that's the one place where he will drop any pretense and let you see into his soul. When you're laying nose-to-nose with him, do you like what you see in his eyes?"

Blushing, but smiling, they both nodded.

"Does he lead or follow?"

They exchanged embarrassed glances, before Kiriko answered. "He leads."

"As I recall from that action report, he is quoted as saying that he enjoyed driving the mecha a lot more than commanding the K2. Could it be because he felt more involved?"

No longer blushing or smiling, they nodded again.

Washu began typing a series of commands into her keyboard, while Kiriko and Suiren watched pensively. A moment later the air around them rippled, and the K2 Bridge reappeared — with a difference: the original command chair was gone, replaced by a bulkier and imposing structure. A glowing blue-white blister dominated each arm of the new seat.

"It looks like the command chair from the mecha," Suiren said.

"That's because it _is_ the command chair from the mecha." She leaned forward and placed her hands on the orbs, which promptly brightened. "You ladies tend to make the decisions and hand Seina the results, allowing him nothing more than the chance to issue a token set of directions. I propose that you reverse the process: let _him_ lead, while you support his actions. You ladies may be the mind and the hands of this ship, but the body always follows the heart. And he is definitely the heart, isn't he?"

"Yes," Kiriko whispered.

"Have you ever wondered about the design of this ship?"

"Yes," Suiren replied.

"What's missing?"

"The artificial intelligence unit."

"Very good. Actually, there is one, but it was not given a personality, which is the normal practice. The K2's AI unit was designed to facilitate communication and cooperation among a diverse group of sapients. Look at how well Fuku and Mizuki interface; that is no accident. The concept is called gestalt bonding — when the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. (It's a lesson I learned from the Emperor.) But every network needs a focus, every ship needs a captain — and every family needs a heart. (Another lesson I learned from the Emperor.) Do you see where this going?"

"Yes," they chorused.

"Good. Any questions?"

"If you remove the command chair from the mecha, what will replace it?" Suiren asked.

"Beats me," Washu shrugged. The look on their faces prompted an explanation: "If the Royal Botanical Society feels that they can successfully guide the mecha's seed to maturity, it will be confiscated and placed in the Royal Nursery. The mecha will then become relegated to disposal status. I've already put my dibs in, since I think I can replace the seed with a suitable power source. Since Seina is already familiar with the command chair, and doesn't really care what happens to the mecha, I'll install it on the K2."

"But, what about the seed?" Kiriko asked, visions of her own Companion flashing through her mind.

"The seed will spend the next few centuries growing with its peers. Its bond with Seina is every bit as strong as Mizuki's is with you, and he will feel it for as long as he lives — no matter how far apart they are." Washu's voice softened, and her smile turned sad. "But remember, Kiriko, that seed, like your Mizuki, will live long after you and Seina are both dead. There will be other Companions in their future."

Kiriko nodded, not quite comprehending the emotions she saw submerged in Washu's emerald eyes.

##########

Gyokuren stood in the common room, inspecting the books (printed and electronic) stacked neatly on the bookcase shelves. She felt a presence behind her, and turned around to face Tenchi and Mihoshi.

"I've heard that your major Power attribute is the ability to disappear," he said.

"It's not quite so dramatic," Gyokuren replied. "It's a mental cloak, not a physical one. It's a conjuror's trick to make you ignore my presence...you _forget_ that I'm here."

"It sounds impressive."

"It' has its drawbacks, however."

"Oh?"

"I can still be heard and photographed. Only the mind of the observer is affected."

"Still, it sounds intriguing."

"Yeah, and real useful in my profession," Mihoshi echoed.

"What is your profession?" Gyokuren asked.

"I'm a Detective Captain in the Galaxy Police," Mihoshi replied. "I've also done some security inspections for Lady Funaho."

"Ah, you're the one," Gyokuren smiled.

"I'm the one."

"I'd like to see this Power manifestation, if you don't mind," Tenchi asked.

Gyokuren shrugged and nodded. If the Emperor of Jurai wanted to see her disappear, she'd oblige him. She applied the mental trigger and Mihoshi gasped. Gyokuren stepped quietly around them; Mihoshi's head swiveled, looking and listening intently, Tenchi continued to stare straight at her. Gyokuren released the mental trigger, and was rewarded with Mihoshi's double-take.

"That _was_ impressive," Mihoshi giggled.

"Thank you. I noticed that you weren't deceived, however," she said to Tenchi.

"Well, I cheated," he grinned.

"How so?"

"First, I have extended senses. You did 'disappear' in the normal sense, but I could still perceive you in other ways. That, and I saw your shadow moving on the floor."

Gyokuren bowed in acknowledgment — and filed the information away for future reference. Her estimation of the Emperor rose several notches.

"Find anything interesting here?" Tenchi asked, gesturing towards the bookcase.

"I find everything interesting; but the level of attraction usually depends upon the presentation."

"Ah," he nodded. "But surely there are some topics that are more attractive than others?"

"Yes, which I chalk-up to the laws of probability. I don't focus on any one subject for very long, because I was trained to filter-out the mass of details and search for any under-laying patterns."

"I was, too," Mihoshi said.

"Yes, crime investigation and system analysis have much in common." Gyokuren smiled and shrugged. "I just have a bad habit of retaining too many of the details."

"I would think that would be a very useful habit," Tenchi said, "especially for memory-intensive activities, like learning a new language."

"Well, I do speak seven languages fluently," Gyokuren replied. "But I find it hard to relax sometimes."

"Here," Tenchi offered, "maybe this will help." He removed a soft-cover book from its shelf and handed it to her. "Washu translated a bunch of these into Juraian for me when we moved here. I found it a useful way to learn the language."

"What is it?" Gyokuren asked, looking at the cover and thumbing through the pages.

"It's a crossword puzzle book. I was amazed that there was no Juraian equivalent. My Hastaba and I used to do these for fun when I was younger."

"Crossword puzzle? I've never heard of such a thing."

Tenchi grinned. "Just consider it a form of primitive amusement." He retrieved a pencil from a cup of writing implements and handed it to her, and then explained how to complete a puzzle.

Fascinated, Gyokuren allowed herself to be escorted to a chair, and failed to notice when Tenchi and Mihoshi slipped away.

##########

"I'll coordinate everyone's schedules," Misaki said. She was sitting on the veranda railing, enjoying the feel of the early morning sunshine, the breeze tousling her hair.

"No doubt you'll work closely with the admiralty liaison, too. Captain Jelham, isn't it?" Funaho teased. She was standing beside her kardesshibe, watching the clouds march across the sky.

"Yes, he is" Misaki replied, one eyebrow rising over her lop-sided grin.

"How convenient."

"I thought so."

"And you'll leak the agenda to the appropriate media sources?" Seto asked, from her position beside Funaho.

"Yes. The usual sources."

"Good."

"Well, I'd better attend to it. The Yamada family won't be here more than a couple of days." She rose and walked back to the door. It slid open to spill a wave of sound, as a dozen conversations broke the morning calm. The door slid shut behind Misaki, and the stillness quickly returned.

"Really, Seto, I don't mind being your stalking horse, but I do wish you'd let me in on the details." Funaho looked sidelong at her mentor.

"What details are you speaking of?" Seto replied.

"Why did you raise the Voudrathi issue with the Yamada family present? Not only was there very little they could contribute, but four of Seina's wives are not even Juraian citizens."

"Yes they are, by virtue of marrying him. And they did make a contribution — see how readily they offered to help?"

Funaho stewed silently, casting an occasional glance, before finally replying. "That whole meeting was a propaganda exercise, wasn't it?"

"Was it?"

"Seina's wives are still sending messages back to the Remza Union, I'll wager. And you wanted them to report Jurai's position vis-à-vis the Voudrathi...and Tenchi's response."

"And what would we accomplish if that were true?"

"I don't know — yet — but it must be something substantial."

"It _is_ substantial," Seto admitted, a feral grin stretching across her face. "I have an idea, old friend, that I would like your opinion about."

"That must mean you have already made up your mind," Funaho replied, "and you merely wish to inform me about it."

Seto shrugged and gestured with her fan.

"Ah, well, this should prove interesting. What is your idea?"

"Do you recall the statement I made yesterday, about uniting humanity under one government?"

"Yes, I remember. What of it?"

"I think we have the vehicle to achieve that goal, and it is orbiting the sun a million kilometers from here."

"The Voudrathi? That lone ship is not a threat."

"But it could be. Especially if portrayed to our human neighbors _properly_."

"Are you suggesting that humanity unite behind a common threat?"

"Why not? History is replete with successful examples."

"But, we don't know what their intentions are. They may be entirely peaceful."

"Oh, come now, Funaho, you know better than that. Alien or not, aggression is a universal characteristic of every species we've ever encountered. You don't conquer a quarter of a spiral arm just for natural resources or better astronomical views. You're right, I don't know what their intentions are — and I don't really care. I see an opportunity here to exploit, and I want your support."

Funaho considered the implications, weighing the risks involved. "What do we tell Tenchi?"

"Nothing, at least not for a while. Such a movement will take some time to get started."

"Washu will notice. _Nothing_ escapes her for long."

"Then bring her into the discussion. I don't see how she can object — particularly since she stands to benefit highly if the effort succeeds."

"It could lead to war, you know."

"With who, the Ascenn'an Autocracy? They are a nuisance, and should have been dealt with long ago. An alliance against them would work in our favor, eliminating an irritant as well as cementing relations with other neighbors."

Funaho nodded slowly. "Very well, you have my endorsement."

"_And_ your support?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now, let's go have a chat with Empress Washu."

**ACT 3 — SATURDAY AFTERNOON**

_Mary-Kate: Hey, Ash! There's water dripping from the ceiling! Right into my cereal.  
Ashley: It must be our brother. He's upstairs taking a bath.  
Mary-Kate: I told you we should have sold him._

_Bring on the clowns  
Bring on the boats  
Bring on the soap, make sure that it floats  
Bring me my bubble bath, strawberry, please  
Bring me some sandwiches, ice cream and cheese  
I don't know how long this could go!_

_I'm gonna stay in the bathtub 'till the soap disappears  
Stay 'till I'm wrinkled clean up to my ears  
It may be for weeks and it may be for years  
Gonna stay in the bathtub 'till the soap disappears_

_Something to wash with and something to scrub  
Something to rubba and something to dub  
Three plastic bottles, a one gallon pail  
My blue rubber ducky, my green blubber whale  
And now I'll step into the tub!_

_I'm gonna stay in the bathtub 'till the soap disappears  
Stay 'till I'm wrinkled clean up to my ears  
It may be for weeks and it may be for years  
Gonna stay in the bathtub 'till the soap disappears_

_Wait, I'm not ready — I nearly forgot  
I'm here in the bath but the water is not  
I just can't believe it  
I just have to laugh  
But at least it isn't too hot_

_I'm gonna stay in the bathtub 'till the soap disappears  
Stay 'till I'm wrinkled clean up to my ears  
It may be for weeks and it may be for years  
Gonna stay in the bathtub 'till the soap disappears_

_I'm gonna stay in the bathtub 'till the soap disappears  
Stay 'till I'm wrinkled clean up to my ears  
It may be for weeks and it may be for years  
Gonna stay in the bathtub 'till the soap disappears_

Title: "Gonna' Stay In The Bathtub 'til The Soap Disappears"  
Artist: Olsen Twins

"You don't have to help me, you know." Sasami pushed the hovercart slowly. It held several small baskets filled with sake and juice bottles, several stacks of cups, and one box of carrots.

"I know," Karen replied. "But I get tired of just sitting. I'd rather be doing something."

"Me, too. I just don't see what the attraction is to soaking in hot water, drinking sake and getting all wrinkly." They were walking away from the service door and into the large tiled chamber that constituted the palace's onsen. Two pools of steaming water, one very large and one very small, separated by a privacy screen of potted plants, raised the room's temperature and humidity, and threw dappled reflections back at the ceiling lights. The chamber echoed with conversation and soft splashing. Sasami gestured towards the knots of adults sitting in the pools, members of the Masaki and Yamada families.

"Well, in their defense, the alcohol loosens the tongue and makes the conversation flow better. And there is something relaxing about sitting chest deep in steaming water. The combination opens you up."

Sasami shook her head; midday and the adult beverages were already flowing.

Karen guessed her line of thought. "You must see a lot of large parties."

"Not parties, really," Sasami grinned. "Life with Tenchi has taught me to be very flexible. You never know what will happen on any given day."

"I'm impressed."

"Don't be. Our life really isn't as exciting as yours; we don't spend our time hunting pirates."

"Well, most of our time is spent traveling or in port, so there aren't that many actual confrontations. Besides, the numbers are dwindling again. There's talk of reassigning Seina to other duties."

"Oh, like what?"

"I don't know," Karen replied somberly, "but between Lady Seto and Prince Yosho at the Admiralty, and whoever is running things at the Galaxy Police, I'm sure it will be something interesting."

"Will that mean splitting you all up?" Sasami was referring to the fact Seina Yamada crewed his ship with his eight wives, one Juraian Royal Tree, and a cabbit.

"Unlikely. Even though the GP makes no accommodations for assigning families to the same ship, Lady Seto is adamant that we remain together. Which suits me just fine — it's hard to build a homelife if everyone scatters."

"Yeah, that would be rough."

##########

Sasami brought the cart to a halt. She stood at the edge of the small pool, gazing down at her husband-to-be, and grinned. Tenchi Masaki Jurai, Emperor of 90%+ of humanity and ruler of an interstellar empire, lounged in the steaming water with his elbows draped across the ledge. As he shifted he exposed skin that was reddened by the heat. He looked up at Sasami and smiled, a twinkle in his eyes. "Are you thirsty, Tenchi?"

"Yes, I believe I am. What have you got in the cart?"

"Juice and sake."

"I'd have some juice, thanks. What about you, Seina?"

Seina sat a few feet away, almost mirroring the monarch's posture. A shadow fell across his head, and he looked up to see the upside-down visage of Karen's face. They exchanged grins. "I think I'd like some juice, too."

"Good choice!" Sasami laughed. Karen started to reach for a bottle, but Sasami stopped her. "I'll get it." Sasami gestured at two of the juice bottles, which promptly floated clear of their basket and drifted slowly towards the men. Two cups followed.

Karen stared, before recovering her composure. "Oh, I forgot about your Power abilities..."

"Yeah, they come in real handy." She looked down again, watching Tenchi open the bottle. "Don't simmer in there too long, Tenchi. We have a big meal planned for tonight, with karaoke afterwards — and you promised to dance with us."

"Your wish is my command, Princess," Tenchi replied.

Sasami nodded with satisfaction and walked away, pushing the cart before her. Karen reached down to ruffle Seina's hair before following.

Seina watched Sasami and Karen push the cart around the privacy screen and back towards the larger pool and the nearest cluster of bathers, which was centered around a stately woman with jade-tinted hair and a commanding presence.

Tenchi watched Seina, noting his glance and response. "You're afraid of Lady Seto, aren't you?" Tenchi asked.

"Well, yes," Seina admitted.

"Wise move. She has quite a history, is extremely manipulative, and knows where everyone's skeletons are buried — and probably had a hand in putting them there."

"Uh, what kind of history?"

Tenchi sipped his juice, considering. "There's a lot of gossip about her, but I'm guessing the truth is actually more colorful. Let's see...she was one of the survivors of the K1190 disaster, a child of six who was acquainted with the director — Naja Akara."

Tenchi hesitated over the name, frowning at a memory. Seina used the pause to ask, "What happened on K1190?"

"It was a Galaxy Academy research station, destroyed by pirates and rebels. Maybe that trauma explains why she enjoys hunting pirates so much. At any rate, she was adopted into the Kamiki Clan, one of the four great houses that dominate Juraian politics. She eventually married the lineage holder, Utsutsumi."

"I've met him. He's...rather unusual."

"Oh, he's not bad when you get to know him. He's Seto's polar opposite: dependable but not real bright. And he has near-infinite patience — an absolute necessity when dealing with _her_ for any length of time."

Seina grinned. "I'll bet he's henpecked a lot."

Tenchi returned the grin. "That's a safe bet. Anyway, the reigning emperor at the time recognized her talents early. She's a brilliant strategist, and a Master Class Power Adept."

"What is her...?" Seina hesitated, searching for the proper term.

"Manifestation? Her psychokinetic talents make her super-strong, a trait passed along to her daughter and grand-daughters."

Meaning Former Empress Misaki and Tenchi's consorts, Ayeka and Sasami. "Oh."

"The Emperor groomed her to be his successor, since Juraian politics (like damn-near everything else in the Empire) is based on the Great Game."

"I've heard that term: the strongest rules."

"Yep. The line of succession is more symbolic than anything else. The throne belongs to whoever can keep it. Upon the death or abdication of the ruling monarch, the designated successor automatically assumes the throne until the next crown challenge is scheduled. The victor of that contest will then be crowned Emperor or Empress." Tenchi sipped his juice, wetting his lips. "Anyway, Seto apparently went along with it for a while, but in the end declined the offer. She had more freedom to maneuver and fewer restrictions if she stayed in the shadows. Take it from me, most of an emperor's time is spent horse-trading and fire-fighting. The glamour is pretty shallow."

Seina said nothing, considering the implications.

"Things coasted smoothly for a while. Seto sharpened her skills by reorganizing House Kamiki, and the Emperor started casting about for a new candidate. They both discovered my great-grandfather about the same time. Azusa was a rising star in House Masaki, handsome, courageous, and a Master Class adept with martial arts skills. (He was also arrogant and headstrong, but those facets were conveniently ignored.) So the Emperor started grooming him in statecraft and Seto began teaching him some of the shrewder aspects of human nature, preparing him for the day he would issue the challenge."

"What about the Emperor's children? Shouldn't one of them have inherited the throne?"

"No. Remember, the throne must be _earned_. Since the monarch's children are not expected to inherit the office, they are free to follow their own inclinations. It's possible that _none_ of them will show any interest in politics. However, any who do will have the home court advantage for learning the intricacies of Imperial administration, as well as retaining the best teachers/coaches available — like my grandfather." Tenchi chuckled wryly. "The theory, of course, is that the most qualified candidate actually assumes the throne. However, history has repeatedly proven that dumb luck and cheating often played just as a big a factor as talent. And the best fighter was not always the best administrator."

"Will you face a Crown Challenge one day?"

"I don't know," Tenchi mused. "I suppose. I've dropped hints with Parliament about possibly amending the laws, and making the line of succession hereditary."

"Wouldn't that lock-out the other great houses, if Clan Masaki ruled permanently?"

Tenchi made a dismissive gesture. "They're already so intermarried that it doesn't matter much. For instance, Seto engineered the betrothal of her daughter Misaki with Azusa, thus unifying House Kamiki and House Masaki. And there are other examples." Tenchi grinned, adding, "Azusa must not have cared for that idea much, since he had his sights set on a young lady named Mitsuki Amaki. Anyway, it almost became a moot point due to his run-in with another rising star: Kagato."

"Isn't he the one...?"

"Yeah, we had our own confrontation much later. He and Azusa went at it toe-to-toe — probably instigated by my great-grandfather (Kagato was much too focused on his quest for Power to be distracted by mundane matters). It must have been a pretty spectacular battle. Azusa lost, and he barely escaped with his life. He steered his crippled ship into the nearest occupied star system looking for sanctuary. It turned-out to be Earth. 13th-Century Japan, to be exact."

"What has that to do with Seto?"

Tenchi grinned. "While my great-grandfather repaired his ship, he also took a fancy to one of the local girls. A daimyo's daughter, in fact, by the name of Funaho."

"Ah."

"Uh, huh. They were married on Earth, and she went back to Jurai with him. You can imagine the shockwaves _that_ caused. She was a Power adept, formidable enough to be taken seriously, and strong enough to weather the complaints lodged against her. Azusa eventually challenged and defeated the Emperor, assumed the throne, and Funaho became his consort. Azusa must have thought he'd out-foxed old Seto once and for all."

Seina glanced over to where Seto was holding court. "What happened?"

"Seto took Funaho on as a protégé, training her for the position she has now. Seto also encouraged Funaho and Misaki to get know one another. Between the former's unfamiliarity with Jurai, and the latter's youth, they bonded quite closely. When civil war nearly broke-out over the birth of Funaho's half-breed son (Yosho), and Parliament demanded that Azusa marry Misaki after all, neither woman objected. Seto never bragged openly, but her private gloating must have angered Azusa for many years."

"Did Seto have any hand in the objections to Yosho?"

Tenchi shrugged. "Maybe. I wouldn't put it past her. After all, that was the lever that forced Azusa to the altar to marry her daughter."

##########

Sasami demonstrated proper etiquette: she had served the Emperor first, and since everyone else present was family (or nearly so), she would start with the most senior person — her grandmother, Lady Seto, who was holding court with her daughter and protégés.

The larger pool was not gigantic; there was enough separation between groups that the background hum of conversation did not interfere, nor the constant echoes distract. Sasami aimed the cart so that it traversed the tiled floor at an angle, placing it broadside to the five women when she stopped beside them. "Greetings, ladies. What would you like to drink?"

"Sasami, why are you pushing that cart? Surely there is a 'bot available for the task?" Seto asked.

"Tenchi does not allow any robots in this wing of the palace."

"Oh, what a silly regulation."

"He doesn't think so. And neither do we, in light of Naja Akara's assassin droids. Besides, I don't mind doing it. Now, Grandma, would you like sake or juice?"

"What kind of juice do you have?"

"Benns'ahnberry."

"What is sake?"

"A Terran liquor made from fermented rice. Tenchi's father always kept plenty in the house — except for those times when Ryoko and Ayeka drank it all."

"It sounds delightful. I'll have sake," Seto decided.

"What about you other ladies?"

"I think we'll all have sake, Dear," Misaki said, and received confirmation nods from Funaho, Airi, and Minaho.

Sasami gestured and the beverages drifted from the cart, accompanied by cups. "Don't get too snookered; we'll have lunch in a couple of hours, and I've got a big dinner planned."

"Why don't you take the cart back to the common room after you've made one circuit?" Funaho asked.

"Yeah," Airi added, "we can't drink any more if it isn't around."

"Well, that might work with a _normal_ group," Sasami grinned, "but I know this crew — those that can't teleport directly wouldn't hesitate to go looking. I'll probably just leave the cart parked by the door and trust you _adults_ to keep your word."

"We promise, Dear," Misaki replied.

"See that you do." And with that, Sasami gave the cart a shove and marched away, Karen Yamada in tow.

"Isn't she cute? So talented, and so attractive..."

"Just like her grandmother," Seto smiled indulgently.

"_Most_ of us are grandmothers," Funaho said.

"_Some_ of us are great-grandmothers," Airi added.

"That's a tedious distinction," Funaho sniffed. Then she looked sideways at Minaho with a sly grin. "But at least _one_ of us here is not so old and decrepit."

"True," Airi nodded. "And I, for one, wouldn't mind seeing more grandchildren — "

" — As I would enjoy more great-grandchildren — "

" — And I'm sure Tenchi would like one or two new mensireshibelar — "

"A touching sentiment," Minaho countered, "but unlikely anytime soon."

"Perhaps you should let Lady Seto perform a few discreet inquiries. She has a great deal of experience in that area."

"I have tried," Seto interjected. "But since Minaho has been so reluctant about quantifying her preferences — "

"My preferences are not open to discussion," Minaho snapped. "Besides, there is more to life than marriage and children. A woman should be able to pursue a career if she so chooses."

"No one is denying that, Dear," Airi replied. "But you are denying yourself one of the greatest joys a woman can make, a biologically mandated — "

"Save your breath, Hastaba. Pulling my chain is not going to foster an uncontrollable mating urge. My reishibe settled for an artichitect; if and when I do decide to go looking for a suitable husband, it will have to be someone with much greater ambitions and potentials."

"One cannot predict all of the possible potentials in a prospective partner," Lady Seto advised. "After all, that architect sired the most potent human being seen in generations. I am quite sure your shibe did not perceive that aspect at the time."

"How do you know it wasn't Achika that made the more significant contribution?" Minaho countered.

"Both parents were required."

##########

The cart paused, a chorus of clinking jostled bottles. Sasami and Karen stood looking down at two women sitting quietly in the pool. Nearby, a bassinet decorated with pink flowers hovered. "What would you like to drink, Ryoko?" Sasami asked.

Both women started to speak, and both stopped awkwardly.

"I was asking Ryoko Yamada, since I _know_ what Ryoko Masaki Jurai is drinking." Sasami pointed and a bottle of juice hopped off the cart, a cup jumping after it.

"I would prefer sake," the cyan-haired woman replied, reaching for the levitating objects.

"I know _that_, too, but you are still nursing that baby — " Sasami pointed towards the bassinet, " — so you will be drinking juice. End of discussion."

"Yes, ma'am," Ryoko Masaki Jurai sighed, although the corners of her lips curled upwards.

"I'll have juice, too," Ryoko Yamada said politely. A moment later a bottle and cup drifted down into her waiting hands.

Sasami pushed on the handle and the cart started moving, rattling less since it contained fewer bottles and cups.

"Do you think either one of them will loosen up at all?" Karen asked. "I know our Ryoko was really looking forward to talking to her idol."

"I hope so. Our Ryoko is usually a chatterbox, but she doesn't like talking about the bad old days much. She tells a lot of stories, but only those where no one gets hurt, or where something really dumb happens." They walked in silence for a bit, before Sasami grinned and added, "Of course, the best way to get her to open up is to have an argument with Ayeka."

"I've heard about those. Are they really that bad?"

"Depends upon what you've heard," Sasami shrugged. "The worst ones involve throwing Power strikes at one another. Back on Earth, they regularly damaged our house."

"Didn't anyone ever get hurt?" Karen asked, trying to visualize what combat between Master Class Power Adepts must be like.

"Nah, they weren't really trying to injure one another. What we could never decide was if they really respected each other that much, or were just afraid of what Tenchi would have done if someone had gotten hurt."

Ryoko MJ watched the cart glide away, Sasami's ponytails swinging ponderously in synch with her footsteps. Karen was looking back at her, so she turned to face Ryoko Y. "So you named yourself after me, huh?"

Ryoko Y nodded once, a bashful grin on her face.

"Why? I was one of the most hated people in the Empire."

"I always admired your courage, tenacity, and tactical brilliance," the younger woman replied. "Although, I will admit the actual applications were a bit...disturbing."

"That's putting it pretty mildly," the older Ryoko said dryly. She tossed her head for emphasis. "I wasn't so much a pirate as a vandal. I did my master's bidding, as efficiently and expeditiously as possible. Innocent bystanders were considered collateral damage."

"But I always wanted to meet you. In fact, all the years I was growing up I assumed you were dead."

"A lot of people hoped I was. Much of the time, I wondered if I was." She looked at the puzzled expression on the younger woman's face and grinned. "Never mind. Ancient history. So, we're a couple of former pirates who got lucky."

"I didn't set-out to be a pirate; I just...fell into it. When I was younger, I wanted to enter the GP, since it seemed the most logical fit for my interests."

"You got there eventually."

"Yes, I did. I have Lady Seto and my husband to thank for that."

Ryoko MJ shrugged. "The past can't be erased, but it can be forgiven. Thank God. I never dreamed I would be where I am now, or as happy."

Ryoko Y nodded. "Me, too. All things considered, the GP was pretty lenient with me, as were the Juraian courts."

"Well, marrying into the Juraian nobility can cure a lot of problems," the older woman grinned.

Ryoko Y studied the Emperor's consort, her eyes repeatedly drawn to the ruby gems glittering at throat and wrists. They glowed with their own internal fire, bright even in normal room lighting.

Ryoko MJ studied the GP officer, and the emerald crystals affixed to the inside corners of her eyebrows, wondering what significance they may have.

They heard a noise from the hovering bassinet. Ryoko MJ floated out of the water, a small shower dripping off her legs, and drifted toward the bassinet. Ryoko Y was startled by the older woman's ability to levitate, and watched her wide-eyed.

"Oh, what's the matter?" Ryoko MJ cooed. There was a stir in the bassinet as she discarded the blanket and lifted the infant out. "Did Mama's Little Angel wake up?"

Ryoko Y noted that as Ryoko MJ gently settled back into the pool, she caused barely a ripple. In her arms she cradled a baby wearing a teal jumper. A cyan-tinged fuzz dusted the infant's skull, and two soft brown eyes blinked at the bright light.

Ryoko MJ cuddled the infant before looking over at her Companion. "Ryoko, I would like to introduce my daughter, Nagisa. Nagisa, this is Ryoko Yamada."

"Oh, she's adorable!" Ryoko Y smiled, scooting closer to inspect the baby. "How old is she?"

Ryoko MJ grinned, watching Nagisa's eyes focus on her own. "She's almost six weeks old. Welcome to the Pirate's Den, sweetie." To Ryoko Y, she explained that, "Tenchi once promised me that we'd have a whole litter of little pirates." To Nagisa, she added, "And Daddy always keeps his promises, huh?"

##########

They sat in a circle, steam wisps rising around them: Ayeka, Kiriko, Gyokuren, Suiren, and Hakuren. Since they were all very reserved, very polite, and very dignified, conversation was delivered in a measured cadence and with graceful gestures.

"Aren't they a fun group?" Sasami whispered to Karen, who giggled appreciatively. "I've seen more animation in raindrops on a window pane!"

The cart stopped next to Gyokuren, who was sitting along the wall.

"Oh, Sasami, what a thoughtful gesture!" Ayeka exclaimed.

"Well, I know how fond you ladies are of getting soaked," Sasami replied.

"You aren't joining us?" Kiriko asked.

"No, I have several kettles to keep an eye on. But thanks anyway."

"Karen?"

"Sasami is teaching me the rudiments of kitchen magic."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't want to interrupt that," Ayeka decided. "That is time well spent, indeed."

"That's what I thought, too," Karen added.

"What would you ladies like, juice or sake?" Sasami asked. She gestured, a bottle of sake and cup arcing gently through the air from the cart to Ayeka's waiting hands. The latter nonchalantly opened it, ignoring completely the wide-eyed stares from the Yamada wives. Karen coughed, smothering her chuckle politely behind her hand.

"I'll...have what she's having," Hakuren said, nodding towards Ayeka. The others made similar comments.

"That's what I figured," Sasami replied. Four pairs of bottles and cups drifted off the cart, each pair floating out over the pool towards their intended receiver. They were captured hesitantly, as though the recipient wasn't quite sure of the validity or solidity of the gifts. "Don't drink too much, please Ayeka? We have a big dinner planned for later, and karaoke afterwards, and Tenchi — "

" — promised to dance with us. I have no intention of forgetting the promise or letting him off the hook!"

The shibej shared conspiratorial grins, before Sasami gave the cart a shove and followed it. Karen took one last look at the faces of her kardesshibelar and chuckled openly, before trotting off after Sasami.

For a moment, the only sounds were liquid going into cups, and polite sipping.

"Can I ask you two a personal question?" Hakuren finally said.

Ayeka and Kiriko exchanged glances, sharing a shrug.

Hakuren's natural assertiveness was emboldened by the effects of the alcohol, allowing her curiosity to get the best of her. "Well, we..." she indicated herself, Gyokuren and Suiren, "...are not from Jurai, but we do study your culture a lot. And we've heard...stories...about certain...eh...marital customs..."

Ayeka started giggling, while Kiriko looked mortified.

"We've heard that Juraian wives tend to...submit their husbands to...ah...some rather _extreme_ forms of emotional expression..."

"It's not a universal custom," Kiriko snapped.

"It ought to be," Ayeka added, still giggling.

"So, you know what I am talking about?" Hakuren asked.

"Yes," Ayeka and Kiriko answered.

"Mind letting us in on it?" Suiren asked.

"I think I already know," Gyokuren said, grinning.

##########

Mihoshi giggled, the infant on her shoulder quivering in synch. Her long blonde hair was gathered and tied at the crown of her head, well away from the baby.

"Really, Mihoshi, why don't you put Miyuki back in her bassinet before you drop her in the pool?"

"Oh, Kiyone, you worry too much. I've been in here with her lots of times. Besides, newborns already know how to swim, you know? It's instinctive. But, if it makes you feel better..." Mihoshi climbed out of the water and padded over to the hovering bassinet decorated with yellow ribbons. She gently lowered her daughter into the bassinet, arranging a blanket and adjusting the sound-dampening controls. "There, honey. Now you be a good girl while Mommy talks to her friends, ok?"

Sasami and Karen arrived, pushing the hovercart.

Mihoshi walked past and helped herself to a bottle of juice and a cup. Sasami nodded approvingly and turned to the other women in the pool. "What can I get for you ladies?"

"I'll have sake," Kiyone replied. "I'm off-duty and enjoying it."

"Where's Trinnard?"

"Working. He'll join us this evening."

"Good. I'm making enough supper to satisfy even _his_ appetite!"

"You've spoiled him, Sasami. I can't cook worth a darn, so he eats over here every chance he gets."

Sasami laughed. "What about you, Amane?"

Amane grinned. "I'll have sake, too, thanks."

Sasami pointed and two bottles floated towards the pool, chased by cups. "Better stay sober, Kiyone; we're doing karaoke after dinner."

"_Humph_, so I gotta sing for my supper again? Story of my life."

Sasami grinned and resumed her circuit of the onsen, Karen traveling beside her.

Mihoshi dropped into the pool, causing a small tidal surge. "Oh, good! I love karaoke!"

"What's karaoke?" Amane asked.

Mihoshi and Kiyone both stared at her.

"Oh, that's right, you've never spent any time on Earth," Kiyone said. She explained the basic sing-along function and the equipment used. "Usually, a group of people get together and take turns singing solos; but we've been doing a lot of group singing over the last year."

"Uh, huh, ever since Tenchi arranged for Professor Gayal to give us voice lessons," Mihoshi added.

"What do you use for music?" Amane asked. "I know that you can find a lot of exotic stuff at the import bazaars, but that sounds pretty specialized..."

"Oh, Tenchi's stepmother sends us discs regularly," Mihoshi replied.

"How would she know what to look for?"

"She doesn't — she lets her kids pick the music," Kiyone replied, sipping her sake. "Do you sing?"

"A little."

"We aren't great, but we do have fun."

"Particularly after the alcohol starts flowing!" Mihoshi giggled. Kiyone nodded ruefully.

##########

One end of the large pool was pinched off to form a shallow wading pool. Washu sat on the tiled edge, tossing an assortment of floating toys to her daughter Achika, and Ayeka's son Azusa. Both children were hopping and splashing and playing with the toys, laughing and giggling and chattering noisily. Across the pool sat Neeju, looking like nothing more than an adolescent babysitter. Beside her, two furry quadrupeds lay fast asleep, long ears draped around their heads like rumpled socks.

The children were the first to notice the approaching cart, and bounded out of the water in that direction.

"Now, now, just be patient!" Sasami laughed. Karen was grinning, watching the two youngsters prancing around the cart eagerly. "Geez, you'd think it was ice cream!" Once given cups and bottles of juice, the kids capered back to the pool side, where Washu provided assistance. "Neeju, what would you like?"

"You mean, I get a choice?"

"Yes," Sasami replied, sounding surprised.

Neeju expected to be treated like a child, since she still resembled one — despite the fact that her normal growth cycle had been frozen for nearly 2,000 years. However, the suspension had been recently terminated, and now she was beginning to age normally — and about to face the trials of puberty (a condition that Sasami was already passing through). "Well, I'd like sake, even if it _does_ taste like battery acid."

"It grows on you," Washu offered as consolation.

"Washu, can I assume that you want sake?" Sasami asked. Washu nodded, Sasami smiled, and two bottles and cups floated off the cart.

"Mi-yaa...?" the larger of the cat-sized quadrupeds stirred, nose raised and sniffing. a second later the smaller Companion joined the nasal sampling. Two sets of eyelids cranked open, following twitching whiskers as their heads swiveled around to point at the hovercart. "Myowr-eem?"

Sasami giggled. "No, Ryo-ohki, I didn't forget about you and Fuku. Here." She gestured and the box of carrots levitated off the cart and settled gently on the floor between the cabbits. The latter stirred into sitting positions, before their faces disappeared into the box.

"I'm just reminding everyone that we have a big dinner planned for tonight, followed by karaoke."

"Thanks, Sasami. We'll keep that in mind."

Sasami nodded and the cart moved away.

"Karaoke?" Neeju asked.

"Interactive entertainment. Singing and much merriment, usually accompanied by copious amounts of alcohol and diminished inhibitions," Washu explained.

"Sounds...interesting."

"It can be a lot fun. You'll have a good time."

Neeju watched the children sipping juice, and the cabbits nibbling carrots, and sighed. "You know, you're the only person I can really talk to."

"Yeah, who else has a Methuselah mind in a Shirley Temple body?"

"I'm afraid both of those references mean nothing to me."

"Methuselah is alleged to be the oldest Earthling on record; Shirley Temple was a popular young girl in Earth's entertainment media."

"Ah: an old soul in a new vessel," Neeju translated. "You seem to have acquired some in-depth knowledge about that planet."

"I spent a lot of time perusing their computer networks. Besides, it's my husband's homeworld — and _your_ husband's homeworld, too, I might add."

"Yes, I suppose I should apply myself in that direction. I have nothing else to do with my nights." Her recent marriage was strictly political — for now, at least.

"Patience is a virtue, or so I'm told." Washu tossed a duck-like toy to her daughter.

"I envy you your ability to change appearances so conveniently. Just how do you switch back-and-forth like that?"

"The same way your kardesshibe Ryoko shape-shifts, just a different focus. I could explain the metamorphic factors if you'd like..."

"Don't bother; biology is not one of my strengths." Neeju tossed a ball to Azusa.

"Just what do you consider your strengths?"

"I'm a politician. That term has many connotations, most of them unflattering, and all of them deserved. I'm afraid my innocent appearance masks a corrupt heart."

"Such camouflage is useful; I've employed it myself for millennia."

"You haven't employed if very often of late. I think I've seen your childlike facade only three or four times in the last few years."

"Well, it's difficult to equate pregnancy or breastfeeding with a 12-year-old. It's not real comfortable, and there isn't a single human culture in the Empire that tolerates adolescent motherhood. Besides, Tenchi prefers the _mature_ form now — a preference I do my utmost to foster!" Washu's cackle caused the children to stop and turn, and then they joined her.

Neeju sighed. "Just how far along are you?"

"Thirteen weeks."

"Boy or girl?"

"Boy."

"Started picking names yet?"

"Nope. No point in rushing it."

"What does Tenchi think about it?"

"He accepted it pretty quickly. But then, he's just adaptable by nature." Washu's smile was soft, and full of hidden meanings. "How do you expect Seina will handle the first one?"

"Oh, I think he'll do alright," Neeju replied, a brief grin illuminating her heart-shaped face. "I just don't think it will happen for a while. We're still on active duty, and even if the others are ready, _he's_ not. He needs to do a little maturing."

"Still, the subject must have risen in conversation..."

"Oh, it has. Usually as a bet to see who will get there first. The arguments are endless."

"Just another day in the serail," Washu shrugged.

"Just another day in the serail," Neeju echoed.

##########

"It didn't end there, did it?" Seina asked, already guessing the answer.

"No such luck. Yosho grew older, and stronger, and smarter. I imagine he got a lot of private tutoring from 'Auntie Seto,' because he soon displayed a flair for scheming and manipulating. I imagine he got a lot of advice from his father, too, warning him about _her_. I imagine Funaho and Misaki finally grew tired of her meddling, and so betrothed their oldest children to one another as a pre-emptive strike against her inevitable match-making. I imagine Yosho went off to Galaxy Academy feeling reasonably safe from Seto's predations."

"It didn't work, did it?"

"Nope. While Yosho was attending Galaxy Academy, Seto arranged for his mentor: a lovely young student who happened to be the daughter of an aristocrat from one of the neighboring kingdoms. An emerald-haired beauty by the name of Airi Magma."

"Grandma Airi..." Seina muttered.

Tenchi's grin was wolfish. "Yosho took the bait hook, line, and sinker. They were married and had a daughter by the time he graduated."

"Minaho?"

"Yep. My aunt. Anyway, upon graduation, Yosho sailed home aboard his Royal Tree ship, knowing that he had some serious music to face:

— He must tell his father that he had married the daughter of Gaira Magma — one of Azusa's political rivals.

— He must tell his mother and half-mother that he has broken the betrothal bond with Ayeka.

— And he must face his father's enemies at Parliament because he had further diluted the royal blood-line.

"Things must have looked pretty bleak about then."

"All due to Seto's scheming. What happened?"

"Kagato reappeared, sending my Ryoko to attack the palace looking for the Genesis Tree. The timing was perfect: Azusa and his wives were absent, Seto was absent, most of the Royal Trees and the home squadron were absent, and the Sentinals were no match for Ryo-Ohki. The damage was extensive, and Yosho entered orbit just about the time Ryoko was advancing on the royal arboretum. Yosho dove into battle and chased Ryoko away. He must have stood there, considering the options open to him:

— Nobody back home knew about Airi and Minaho, yet (except, probably, Seto).

— He had virtually no allies to call upon.

— Even if he successfully challenged his father for the throne one day, half of his subjects wouldn't approve of him.

— If he stayed, he would face recriminations from all sides, and probably even lose Airi. But...

— If he pursued Ryoko, he would probably die in combat and receive a hero's funeral.

"Yosho's choice was obvious and understandable. In the aftermath of the attack on the capitol, and the emotional shock to the Royal Family, Seto simply slipped into the shadows and waited for circumstances to turn in her favor. She quietly made arrangements for Airi and her daughter, and found other interests to occupy her attention."

##########

"How are you and Yosho progressing with your reconciliation?" Seto asked Airi.

"Quite nicely. He's moved out of the palace, now, and lives with me on my estate."

"Yes, and I must say that his departure this time was far less traumatic than his previous one," Funaho added. She grinned at her daughter-in-law, who returned the gesture.

"Fortunately, Tenchi keeps him busy enough at the admiralty that he isn't bored. He was afraid (at first) that he should have remained on Earth. I still can't believe he was a shrine priest for so long."

"Somehow, I doubt that it was as tedious and monotonous as he implies. Earth is a Regressed World, after all."

"That's true. When I finally located him a few decades ago, the planet was just recovering from its second global war in a century, and he was living in an occupied country on the losing side."

"I am still a bit...distressed...that you knew his whereabouts and didn't share them with us."

"I really am sorry about that, Lady Funaho. But Yosho was adamant that his location remain a secret. He didn't want Ryoko's crypt disturbed until she was ready."

"Until Tenchi was old enough, you mean. Sometimes his actions just defy reason."

"Between his precognitive talents and analytical skills, he was one of my best students," Seto purred. "But I guess it just runs in the family, eh, Funaho?"

Funaho's nod was noncommittal.

"Well, hastaba, at least you stayed there long enough to conceive and raise Achika." Minaho said.

"Did you ever diagnose what caused her death?" Seto asked.

"No," Airi admitted, "but I'm guessing it has something to do with her son. He is such a potent adept, it had to have been a contributing factor."

"Washu once described him as a prodigy, born a thousand generations too soon," Funaho said. "He's only in his mid-twenties, yet he's already exhibiting talents that rival Tsunami's."

"He actually surpasses her in some respects," Minaho said, and the others turned startled expressions on her.

"Ah, our resident expert speaks," Seto said. "What have your analyses uncovered?"

"Well," Minaho replied, "consider the facts: Seina's mecha breached a psuedospace field membrane using its six wings and pulled Tarant Shunk's pirate ship back into realspace — a feat considered impossible until then. Tsunami and Ryoko can each project _ten_ Lighthawk Wings. That amount of power is almost incomprehensible. Then along comes Tenchi with his three modest wings — "

"I wouldn't call those three wings modest, since he was able to dissolve a singularity with them," Funaho interrupted.

"True," Minaho conceded, "and in a simple comparison of size he appears outclassed. The key word here is 'appears'. His deficiency in raw power is more than compensated by his flexibility. Ryoko and Tsunami — in fact, _all_ of Tsunami's descendents — lack _finesse_. In a confrontation with Tenchi, it would be like pitting Sumo wrestlers against an Aikido master. One can also argue the point that Tsunami and her seeds are not even human, and Ryoko requires her gems. The only womb-born human able to wield such titanic energies without any artifice at all is Tenchi Masaki Jurai. My nephew is unique."

##########

"Don't you find it just a bit...incongruous...being the Emperor's personal bodyguard?" Ryoko Y asked.

Ryoko MJ shrugged. "I switched sides. Now I hunt the predators I used to rub shoulders with."

"Ever see anyone you used to know?"

"Nah, most of those folks have been dead a long time. As it was, they were usually consultants hired to teach me; I never knew any of them real well." Ryoko MJ grinned wryly, gently brushing her daughter's hair. "Most of my training was subliminal — I spent an awful lot of time in stasis, so I never had any freedom. Or opportunities. Or friends."

"It must have been terrible," Ryoko Y said softly.

"It was a living hell — but if that was the price to pay for the heaven I have now, I'd gladly pay it again!"

"I can't really relate; my grief was nothing compared to your life."

"Well, we all have our own private purgatory to endure," Ryoko MJ said. "I hear yours had a rather unique twist to it."

"You might say that," Ryoko Y replied. "I'm a shapeshifter, that means I can rearrange my major metabolic components in real-time. It can be handy, but there is always a price to pay."

"Like what?"

"Each form has its own distinct parameters. The Wau form, for instance, has a heightened sense of smell as well as faster reflexes. But, there's always a sudden overload feeling when I switch to that shape, and a corresponding sensory loss when I switch back. Sometimes it's just a moment of disorientation, sometimes I can be sick for hours. And that's just part of the price."

"Only _part_ of it?"

"There are psychological factors, as well. I never cared much for my days as a pirate; the tension and mistrust were constant, not to mention the risk of sudden death."

"I can appreciate that."

"I was ordered to infiltrate the GP Regional complex because I could blend in, both physically and culturally. But I actually enjoyed my time there; masked as a Wau, I was free to relax and pursue other interests. I dreaded returning to normal, because it meant giving up so much freedom."

"Why did you stay with the pirate guild? Couldn't you have made the Wau persona permanent?"

"No. I can only maintain a foreign shape for just so long, and then I revert. I'd have been discovered sooner or later. I really had no other alternatives...I felt trapped."

"I can appreciate that, too." Ryoko MJ studied the infant in her arms, who had fallen back to sleep. "Sorry you took my name?"

"No," Ryoko Y replied slowly. "Not a bit. I've had the kind of adventures that inspire novels and videos. If I had not taken your name, and followed that path, I would have missed so many experiences...and I never would have met my Seina."

"That's the clincher," Ryoko MJ smiled. "I know exactly how you feel."

##########

"You have _manacles_ on your headboard?" Hakuren gasped.

Ayeka nodded. "On the footboard, too, but I rarely use those."

Seina's wives stared at her, bug-eyed and slack-jawed, like so many captive goldfish.

"And, His Majesty...er...accepts this?" Suiren asked.

"Oh, he cooperates fully. Especially once I enlightened him about some of the _subtleties_ involved, as well as my own personal preferences." Ayeka's smile was cat-like.

"Oh...my...god," Gyokuren whispered.

Hakuren turned towards Kiriko. "Is _this_ what you and Seina do on your nights together?"

Kiriko bridled under the implication — and the stares from her three kardesshibelar. "No, it is not. I said the custom was not universal. I have _never_ indulged in such practices!"

"A pity," Ayeka said, sipping her sake. "With the proper training, you ladies would soon learn to reach beyond the obvious appearances and appreciate the benefits."

"Training?" Suiren asked.

"Benefits?" Gyokuren asked.

"Oh, yes. Among the upper castes, the skills are passed along from mother-to-daughter (and I assume there is some similar knowledge passed from father-to-son). In practice, it is a way to test the courage and commitment of your husband."

"I'm not upper caste," Kiriko said, staring into her cup and trying to ignore the side-long glances from the others.

"You are now," Ayeka countered, referring to Kiriko's recent bonding with a Royal Tree. "Neither were my kardesshibelar, either, but they have since received rudimentary training...or, at least, a proper introduction."

Gyokuren, Hakuren and Suiren gaped at Ayeka again, and then turned to look around the pool at Tenchi's other wives.

Kiriko's eyes remained lowered. "I'm...not sure I could do...that...to Seina," Kiriko whispered. "He's so fragile, and tender..."

"He is a man, or will be," Ayeka countered. "They are a lot tougher than they appear."

Kiriko remembered Seina's long history of bruises and fractures, and nodded.

"And they are full of surprises." Ayeka smiled softly, her eyes clouded in memories. "In fact, it is their unpredictability that makes the experience so enlightening."

"What does this...training...involve?" Kiriko asked.

"Yes, please elaborate," Gyokuren added.

##########

"So, why did you quit the GP?" Amane asked.

"Because I was going nowhere," Kiyone replied. "Hell, I was even MIA for three years and no one really noticed."

"I did," Mihoshi volunteered.

"Yeah, _you_ did. You were the only one."

"Mihoshi is good at keeping track of her friends," Amane noted.

"Well, it was easy when we were all in the GP together."

"Speaking of the GP, _Captain_ Mihoshi, how about pulling some strings and getting me promoted to Detective First Class?"

"I thought Lady Seto was already doing that?"

"I thought so, too, but she doesn't seem to be in any hurry. Ever since _your_ great-aunt Mikami chewed me a new as-"

"I heard about that!" Mihoshi laughed.

"-ole, I've been stuck at Second Class."

"Don't get your hopes up," Kiyone said to Amane. "I was her partner for months, and they ignored my transfer requests repeatedly."

"That wasn't _my_ fault, Kiyone," Mihoshi replied, disconcerted. "If I had known that's what you wanted, I'd have talked to my grandfather about it!"

"I didn't say it was your fault...exactly...but your damned unpredictable luck attribute..."

"I have it under control now," Mihoshi sniffed.

"Oh, forget about it. I'm not in the GP anymore, so it doesn't matter."

"So, how does Juraian Internal Security stack up to the GP?" Amane asked.

Kiyone shrugged. "I never got to do any covert ops in the GP, so I couldn't make a fair comparison. But I will say my work now is a lot more interesting."

"Sounds like fun."

"Want to join my outfit? Noike is good, but having two operatives is even better — as long as you don't get pregnant, like Mihoshi and Ryoko did."

"I'll think about it. Life on the K2 gets exciting, but it's awfully crowded. And my GP career looks rather stalled right now." Amane sipped her drink, considering. "The only thing I would really miss is being with my husband every day."

"I know _that_ feeling," Mihoshi said.

"Yeah, I've been experiencing that a lot myself, lately," Kiyone added.

##########

"What's it like, having a baby?" Neeju asked.

"The experience itself? Grab your lip and pull it completely over the top of your head, then try to touch your chin with the tip of your tongue."

Neeju nearly spit a mouthful of sake into the wading pool. "You can't be serious," she coughed and sputtered.

"Well, I suppose I _am_ exaggerating a bit," Washu grinned. "Nonetheless, it is painful."

"Then why do it? Why not just have the baby surgically removed?"

"Because the painful way is nature's way. Unless medically proscribed, having the baby excised surgically is little better than treating it as a tumor. Have you ever worked really, really hard for something, and then savored the accomplishment afterwards? Sure beats having it given to you on a platter."

Neeju pondered the concept with pursed lips, watching little Achika and Azusa splashing amongst their toys.

"Besides," Washu continued, "the sheer joy of looking into the eyes of your newborn baby is simply indescribable. It makes all the pain and effort and anxiety worth it.

"I'd like to have a baby someday. Seina's baby."

"I have every expectation that will happen. Just not real soon."

"I have to wonder, though...will he want to, you know, _conceive_ with me? He has all those other women, and I have to wait for so long..."

"I don't think you have anything to worry about. He married you, didn't he?"

"The marriage was arranged," Neeju replied despondently. "For me, it's been nothing more than a ceremony...a promise of events to come."

"You aren't alone: Sasami has been betrothed to Tenchi for a couple of years now. Neither of them seems the least bit inclined to alter the arrangement. You can see the anticipation in her eyes, and the pride in his." Washu sipped her drink and grinned. "Kinda like watching a cake baking in the oven!"

"But all of those others..."

"Neeju, he's human, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"And he's _male_, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"Do you love him?"

"Yes."

"Then nourish your hope...it can sustain when you have nothing left to live for."

##########

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure," Tenchi replied.

"Do you ever...forget...which wife you're sleeping with?"

Tenchi stared at Seina. Seina was red-faced, trying to ignore Tenchi's shocked look. The shocked look melted into an amused grin. "Has that happened to you?"

"Yes," Seina whispered.

Tenchi chuckled. "Yes, it has happened to me, too. Although I learned a long time ago never to speak any names until I'm sure who I'm with. And if that means asking irrelevant questions in a dark bedroom, then I ask questions. I can always recognize their voices."

"That sounds like good advice," Seina answered, relieved that Tenchi had not taken offense.

"Now I have a question for you."

"Oh?"

"How do you handle the sleeping arrangements?"

Seina blushed again. "They established a schedule among themselves, and decided who comes to my room each night."

"Ah," Tenchi grinned. "I just wondered. It's a little different around here."

##########

"I had absolutely nothing to do with Tenchi's choice of wives," Seto said. "He married all of them out of love, not political consideration." She found herself facing hardened skeptics. "Really, there is nothing that I could have arranged that would have cemented him more tightly to the Empire. Two of his wives are daughters of the previous emperor, besides his own direct lineage. And we all know it wouldn't matter anyway — there is simply no one as powerful as he is. Why do you doubt me?"

"Because you are an inveterate meddler," Airi replied. "Tell me, wasn't there an ulterior motive for sending Funaho to Earth to talk to Washu?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"You had her evaluate her relationship to Tenchi, as well as Ryoko's relationship. You were hoping he would marry _one_ of them."

"And why would I do that?" Seto asked innocently.

"To recruit Washu and her technical genius. Being part of the Royal Family would soften her resolve to remain neutral. She would take sides...as she has since done. Surely that wasn't just a serendipitous accident?"

Seto simply smiled, and the others rolled their eyes in exasperation.

"Then what about Noike?" Airi asked. "Why did you attempt to attach her to Tenchi's household? Was she supposed to become wife number six?"

"Really, what an outrageous idea," Seto shrugged, bereft of guile. "I just thought Ayeka and Sasami might like to spend some quality time with their hastabashibe Noike. Although, I do feel sorry for my poor ward...she has become a workaholic and a wallflower. Doubtless you've heard that she was refused by several prospective suitors. I fear for her eventual happiness."

Airi snorted derisively. "Oh come now, what man would refuse a marriage to Noike Sakatsu Kamiki, adopted daughter of Lady Seto Kamiki, and Companion of the third generation tree ship Kyoko? Power, privilege, position — all wrapped-up in an attractive package."

Seto merely shrugged. "Tenchi refused."

"Tenchi already has enough to deal with. Why stir-up a hornet's nest? His wives are ultra-protective; they'd have pulverized gentle Noike."

"She has more steel than you give her credit for."

"Even if that's true, she would not fit into the Masaki serail...Seina's family, perhaps, but not Tenchi's."

"And what makes you say that?" Misaki growled. "My plimalshibe is neither frail nor fearsome."

"Agreed," Funaho said. "She has proven most useful as Mihoshi's and Ryoko's replacement in my special investigations unit."

"Because I know all the principals better than anyone, I believe," Airi replied. "It has to do with the personalities of each family."

"Please explain," Misaki prodded.

"Very well, but don't take these comments as personal criticisms." Airi eyed the women around her, all of who were related to those she was about to dissect. "Tenchi's harem consists entirely of Master Class Power Adepts. Those so gifted, like creative and intellectual geniuses, often pay the price for their ascendant talents by being temperamental and emotionally unstable, very possessive as well as demanding. Their needs are unique, but once met they shine like novae. Tenchi has provided such an effective anchor for those five prodigies that they not only tolerate one another, they have actually bonded together. They will not permit _any_ changes to the status quo unless created from within."

"Their children," Funaho said pensively.

"Exactly. And you can be very sure that their children will be extremely well protected, and exposed to an incredible panoply of ideas and experiences that we can only speculate about."

"And what of the Yamada family?"

"Seina's harem, on the other hand, are all second or third tier adepts. They had to struggle to develop their talents, and as such their talents are not so consuming. And all of the ladies have law enforcement, military, or clerical backgrounds; teamwork is second-nature to them. Compromise is readily achieved because each is willing to make an immediate sacrifice for later reciprocity. They are driven as much by ideals as by personal satisfaction: Kiriko and Ryoko are both aristocratic, Amane is a billionaire heiress, Neeju is still technically a priestess, and Hakuren, Karen, Suiren, and Gyokuren hold similar positions within the Remza Union; yet they have all deferred their privileges to serve alongside Seina in the GP."

"I would hope that Seina's loyalty would not be misdirected due to so much foreign influence," Seto replied. "The Galaxy Police is an international organization, after all, not under the direct control of Jurai. It would be a serious incident if the Yamada family stood against Jurai at some future point..."

"Possible, but unlikely," Airi said. "Seina is tied by marriage — and probably blood, as well — to the Juraian Royal Family. Those ties run deep. And even if he did, both the Kamidake II and Kiriko's Companion Mizuki would return to Jurai. They are only on loan to the GP."

"Have you considered the potentials Seina's family represents?" Funaho mused.

"Such as?"

"Well, there is an awful lot of diplomatic leverage and wealth among his wives. What might be possible with such transnational ties and extensive resources to draw upon...?"

The four women looked at Seto, whose expression was masked by the bottom of her sake cup.

##########

"But why did you approach Jurai from the south solar pole?" Ryoko Y asked. "It was going to be as heavily monitored as any of the other quadrants. Besides, the thinner traffic off the plane of the ecliptic just meant you'd stand out more."

"You're assuming I was trying to sneak through the defense nets," Ryoko MJ replied. "I wasn't. Even though my energy signature bears a certain resemblance to the trees, it wouldn't pass a close inspection. Besides, I had no time for stealth, and I wanted the maximum amount of maneuvering room in case they caught-on too soon. I already knew that the Sentinel squadron was at full deployment, and that the home fleet was away on maneuvers. Thus, the normal security forces were either absent or stretched real thin. And even though the reserves would be called back quickly once the shooting started, it would take them a while to respond."

"I just have to ask: what did Kagato think he was going to do with a juvenile Royal Tree? They stand what, about ten meters tall? And even assuming you found the Genesis Tree, how did you expect to ferry it away?"

Ryoko MJ laughed. "Well, for starters, Kagato got his facts wrong. Tsunami wasn't even there...she was in contact with the juveniles that were there, but she wasn't physically present. And if I had found 'Ouke no ki', I was to wrap a harness around the trunk that contained a psuedospace transponder. Then Kagato would have swooped-in with the Souja and teleported her away."

"The Souja was that big?"

"Yep."

Ryoko Y refilled her cup and gestured towards Ryoko MJ's cup, refilling it after the latter's nod. Both women were enjoying the animated conversation. "It's getting rather noisy in here. Don't you think that will wake the baby?"

Ryoko MJ shifted the infant at her breast. "Nah, she's a heavy sleeper. Besides, she's used to loud noises."

"Oh," Ryoko Y shrugged. "Anyway, why didn't you target the orbital defenses...?"

##########

"I won't divulge any of their secrets," Ayeka said, "but my kardesshibelar do have their own...interpretations...of the customs."

"I gotta hear this," Hakuren muttered, her skin flushed by the alcohol.

Ayeka sipped her sake, gauging how much privileged information she should spill. "Well, I know Ryoko has experimented with ropes on occasion, and Washu likes to put on costumes, and Mihoshi has her vary-gee generator — "

"Excuse me," Suiren interrupted, "but did you say a 'vary-gee generator'?"

"Yes, I did. She has it installed in her bedchamber (in fact, I believe it was a wedding gift from Washu). She likes to practice zero-gravity maneuvers. I hear she's quite good at it. Ryoko would be a better judge of that, however, since they have shared it at least once."

"Huh? Ryoko and Mihoshi have _shared_ it?" Gyokuren asked hesitantly.

"With Tenchi, of course."

"You've tried...eh...multiple partners?" Hakuren stammered.

Ayeka looked at her with unmitigated surprise. "You mean, you haven't? Surely with eight wives the opportunity must be rather common."

"No," Kiriko replied, "actually, it isn't."

"And it's really only seven wives; Neeju is still too young for consummation," Suiren added.

"Ah, of course," Ayeka nodded.

##########

"What's your family up to these days?" Amane asked.

"The usual," Mihoshi replied. "Mother never stays in one place for very long, and my brother and jurbahshibe have their careers." She stirred her juice with her fingertip. "We aren't as close as we used to be, not since my father died."

"Yeah, I remember how frazzled your mother was at the funeral. Poor Mitoto; she seemed to lose all her focus after that."

"Uh, huh. She just came unhinged. Some people disappear into their job; my mother just plain disappears."

"At least your grandfather took her off of active duty and found something easy for her do."

"Yeah, maintenance chores are easy enough..."

"I do see her occasionally, usually at the GP regional facility. She likes to hang around the docks and the academy campus."

"I only met her once," Kiyone added. "She seemed like a nice person."

"My brother took it pretty hard. I hadn't realized how close he and Dad were."

"Did they ever meet Tenchi?"

"Oh, yeah, at the wedding. Dad was so proud..."

"I wish I'd been there for you, Mihoshi."

"I know."

"I had quite a crush on Misao when we were kids," Amane reflected. "We used to climb trees together, and played zpa'ht in the street all the time..."

"Oh, so now the truth comes out!" Mihoshi grinned. "And here I thought you just liked to come over to my house and play dolls together."

Amane shrugged and smiled.

"No offense, Mihoshi," Kiyone said, "but I just can't picture you playing with dolls."

"I'll have you know that I had a very large doll collection," Mihoshi sniffed, and then broke into a giggle. "You know, Kiyone, at one time I was going to try to hook you up with Misao. But then he met Mashisu and fell head-over-heels. Which is too bad, because you'd have made a charming couple."

Kiyone frowned, trying to imagine herself as Mihoshi's sister-in-law. "It's probably for the best," she replied, as diplomatically as possible. "From the sounds of it, we're too much alike. There would have been too much friction."

"Yeah, you're right."

##########

"You know, as old as I am, I haven't been around a lot children." Neeju's legs were draped over the side of the wading pool, her feet flat on the bottom. She felt a jet of hot water sprayed across her toes, and she wriggled them in response.

"Really?" Washu sipped her juice, one eye on the babies, one eye on the elfin visitor across from her.

"I was separated from my family at an early age, and raised by the Church. I don't remember my parents, frankly; and my siblings and their descendents are just a blur of faces. I was never really attached to any of them."

"Did you have many friends?"

"No. A few confidants, here and there. I've outlived them all."

"I can appreciate that," Washu sighed, thinking of one person in particular.

"How long do you think our husbands will live? Will we bury them, too?"

Washu shrugged. "I will admit, I've laid awake at night thinking about that. It haunts me. I've run tests on Tenchi several times, but the answers were all inconclusive. I _think_ he'll live for centuries...I hope he will...but I don't know for sure."

"Or maybe someone will come along and resolve the issue."

"I've considered that, too." Washu shivered, a name rippling across the surface of her mind.

"Will you outlive your husband — or join him, when the time comes?"

"I don't know, Neeju. I honestly don't know. I've never met anyone like him; he's my whole world. If you had asked me that question five years ago, I'd have scoffed at it. But so much has changed since then..."

"I envy you those five years, Washu."

Washu grinned. "It seems to me the last six months have been pretty eventful for you."

Neeju nodded slowly. "I've gotten my first real taste of mortality, its assets and liabilities." She looked across the pool towards the privacy screen. "And its hopes."

##########

"How long have you been married?" Tenchi asked.

"Just under two months," Seina replied.

"It must be pretty tough for you."

"What do you mean?"

"You're what, 15? And saddled with _eight_ very strong-willed women. There must be a lot of stress."

"Yeah, there is," Seina shrugged. "My life took some strange turns, that's for sure. I'll never even finish high school, not that I miss it particularly. It just feels...incomplete."

"You graduated from the GP Academy, at least. That has to mean something."

"Oh, it does. I've met some wonderful people and been some incredible places. I never would have had the chance if it weren't for the GP."

Tenchi nodded, sipping his juice. "Do you miss your family?"

"Sometimes. I call them once in a while, but they are always so busy..."

"And you aren't?"

"Even though we're in space a lot, I often have as lot of free time on my hands." Seina refilled his cup.

"I find that hard to believe. I rarely get a moment's peace, and I only have five wives."

"When they aren't on duty, it seems like they spend all of their time arguing with each other. There have even been a couple of fistfights."

"Imagine that," Tenchi said dryly.

"Don't your wives fight?"

"Frequently. And there are usually a lot of fireworks; you should see our budget for furniture!"

Seina remembered what Tenchi's consorts were capable of, and shuddered. "So many hurt feelings..."

"I think your wives are closer together than you realize."

"What makes you say that?"

"Experience. That, and I've scanned them all."

"What do you mean? Can you read their minds?"

"No, I'm not a telepath. I gather impressions from people, like a psychological profile. It's hard to explain. But there is no hate in your family, Seina. They are all completely devoted to you, and generally tolerant of one another. You just have to give them all time to adjust. Tell me, how do _you_ feel about _them_?"

Seina was silent, giving the question the attention it deserved.

"Do you love them? There are some days I don't like my wives much, but I love them passionately. Life without them is simply not worth living. Come here," Tenchi rose and stepped onto the tile, gesturing for Seina to follow him. They stood beside the screen of shrubbery, pulling aside the leaves. The chamber beyond was wreathed in steam, but through it they could discern the five groups of women and two hovering bassinets. "I live for moments like this. Look at them: they are healthy and happy, quiet and content. Such instances are rare, so each must be remembered and treasured during the rougher times. Surely, you've had those moments with your wives?"

"Yes," Seina nodded.

"Describe one."

"Sometimes when we're in port, and they've all been shopping or sight-seeing. They'll be in a good mood, and talk among themselves, and swap jokes, and tease me. It never lasts long, but it happens."

"There you go. What more can you hope for? Face it, none of them ever expected this to happen."

"Neither did I."

"The idea takes some getting used to, believe me," Tenchi chuckled. "In fact, if we lived back in Okayama we'd both be arrested for bigamy!"

Seina smiled, painting the picture in his mind. "Yeah, especially with _my_ luck."

"But you still haven't answered my question: do you love them?"

"Yes."

"Then, tell them — take it from someone who waited far too long to do so."

**ACT 4 — SATURDAY EVENING**

_Everyone can see we're together as we walk on by  
And we flock just like birds of a feather  
I won't tell no lie  
All of the people around us, they say  
Can they be that close?  
Just let me state for the record  
We're giving love in a family dose_

_We are family, I got all my sisters with me  
We are family, getup, ev'rybody, and sing_

_Living life is fun  
And we've just begun to get our share_  
Of this world's delights  
_High hopes we have for the future  
And our goal's in sight  
No, we don't get depressed  
Here's what we call our golden rule  
Have faith in you and the things you do  
You don't go wrong, this is our family jewel_

_We are family, I got all my sisters with me  
We are family, getup, ev'rybody, and sing_

_We are family, I got all my sisters with me  
We are family, getup, ev'rybody, and sing_

Title: "We Are Family"  
Artist: Sister Sledge (from the film soundtrack, "Full Monty," 1997)  
* The Pointer Sisters  
* The Corrs* and probably others...

Though lunch was a tray of snacks and some soft drinks (placed on the dining room table for convenient self-serve), dinner was a much more elaborate affair. Sasami recruited Tenchi and Ryoko to transport/teleport several bowls and platters and a tureen downstairs to the banquet room. Utensils and crockery soon followed, and all were carefully spread across the three large tables that occupied the room. Sake, wine, beer, and juice were also provided.

Mihoshi recruited Kiyone and her husband into bringing down the karaoke machine, clearing a large corner of the room into a makeshift stage, and setting-up the box and speakers. The cordless microphones were neatly stack where they could be found. A box of audio discs was placed nearby.

The Yamada family, for the most part, simply watched a well-oiled machine in action. "They must do this a lot," Karen whispered to Seina.

The last items to appear before Tenchi called the diners to order were the two bassinets and two highchairs. The former were pushed into a corner of the room (since their occupants were firmly ensconced on their mothers' shoulders), and the latter were tucked up against one of the tables (since their occupants were scampering around the room).

In spite of the luxurious furnishings, the dinner was boisterous and casual. The families intermingled, the adult beverages flowed, and great quantities of food were eaten. In a word, everyone relaxed.

Trinnard dragged his seat around to face the karaoke machine, and started flipping through the box of discs. Each was labeled with a name and track number. He nodded once and started rearranging the stack, experience suggesting the probable order.

Tenchi's consorts lined themselves up between the speakers, shoulder-to-shoulder, hefting their microphones. More than one of them giggled.

Seina's consorts twisted their seats around, intrigued by the impending performance. They exchanged glances among themselves, wondering what they had gotten themselves into.

Seto and her cronies also adjusted their seats, although they exchanged smiles — they knew what was coming.

Kiyone grumbled loudly, hunkering down in her chair, refusing to join the line.

"Since Kiyone is _obviously_ in no shape to join us," Ryoko MJ grinned wickedly, "we'll just have to wait until next time — when she's sober." There was laughter from her Kardesshibelar, which elicited a loud raspberry from Mrs. Qualston.

"Maybe you should get her some coffee, Trinnard," Mihoshi suggested.

"I don't think anything I could say or do would be very welcome at this point," he replied, straight-faced.

"You are _so_ right," Kiyone growled. "Just play the damn music."

"Yes, ma'am," Trinnard said, his grin hidden as he faced the karaoke machine.

Ryoko positioned herself lightly in front of the others, waiting for her cue.

_Go on go on  
Leave me breathless  
Come on (come on, come on...)_

_Hey... yeah...  
The daylight's fading slowly  
The time with you is standing still  
I'm waiting for you only  
The slightest touch and I feel weak  
I cannot lie, from you I cannot hide  
And I'm losing the will to try  
Can't hide it (can't hide it), can't fight it (can't fight it)_

_So go on, go on, come on, leave me breathless  
Tempt me, tease me, until I can't deny  
This loving feeling (loving feeling)  
Make me long for your kiss  
Go on (go on), go on (go on)  
Yeah...  
Come on_

The music had a provincial, unsophisticated sound, heavy on percussion — but nonetheless appealing. What would probably be derided at any modern Juraian social event proved all-too-appropriate in this casual setting.

The beat was infectious.

And though Ryoko MJ was leading, her Kardesshibelar wove a harmonic curtain around her, their voices merging and overlapping. They were all smiling, moving synchronously, and obviously enjoying themselves.

It was also obvious who the five ladies were singing for: the man in question sat at the nearest table, grinning proudly. On the floor beside him, his son and daughter were dancing to the music, possessed with more enthusiasm than coordination. Around the table his relatives were laughing and encouraging the children to continue.

_Yeah...  
And if there's no tomorrow  
And all we have is here and now  
I'm happy just to have you  
You're all the love I need somehow  
It's like a dream  
Although I'm not asleep  
And I never want to wake up  
Don't lose it (don't lose it), don't leave it (don't leave it)_

_So go on, go on, come on, leave me breathless  
Tempt me, tease me, until I can't deny  
This loving feeling (loving feeling)  
Make me long for your kiss  
Go on (go on), go on (go on)  
Yeah...  
Come on (come on, come on...)_

The Emperor's consorts broke into a line dance during the instrumental bridge.

The Yamada family was, in a word, speechless: the women of the Masaki serail were not only cooperating, they relished the activity. This, in spite of their diverse backgrounds and legendary disagreements. Seto noticed the shocked expressions and leaned over to whisper in Funaho's ear. "What lovely harmony, isn't it?"

Funaho had been watching the interaction as well, and nodded. "This is why you invited them..." she indicated the Yamada family, "...here today, isn't it? To show them what is possible."

"There is so much stress in their family, I just thought a successful example might inspire and encourage them a bit."

_Yeah-ie, yeah, yeah-ie, yeah...  
And I can't lie  
From you I cannot hide  
And I've lost my will to try  
Can't hide it (can't hide it), can't fight it, (can't fight it)_

_So go on, (go on) go on, (go on), come on, leave me breathless  
Tempt me, tease me, until I can't deny  
This loving feeling (loving feeling)  
Make me long for your kiss  
Go on, (go on) go on, (go on) come on, leave...me breathless  
Go on, (go on) go on, (go on) come on, leave...me breathless  
Go on, (go on) go on, (go on) come on, leave...me breathless  
Go on...go on!_

The applause was loud and sincere, with two young voices cheering from the center table (echoed by adult laughter). Ryoko MJ grinned and bowed, and blew her most ardent admirers a kiss.

Mihoshi stepped forward, and the line readjusted itself as it absorbed Ryoko MJ.

"This song was originally intended as the cry of a rebellious trophy wife," Mihoshi said. "But, since I've spent the last couple of years slaved to the GP's public relations office, it pretty well sums-up my attitude about my job in general — and it is _not_ directed at our husband." She blew Tenchi a kiss, and then signaled Trinnard to play the indicated disc.

_She left the credit cards under her goodbye note_  
"_All of these are yours, goodbye" and that was all she wrote  
The keys to the Porsche she dropped on the floor in the den  
She left in the '70 Dodge that he drove her in  
She wasn't angry; she wasn't sad  
She was just leaving a life that a lot of women wish they had_

_Tired of being blonde  
Tired of running around with the usual guys and dolls  
Tired of being blonde  
Tired of living up to all he expected  
Tired of being blonde  
Tired of fighting back the feeling inside that told her to run  
Tired of being blonde  
Tired of letting her dreams go neglected_

Mihoshi's Kardesshibelar joined her on the chorus, their voices seeking sympathy. Their choreographed movements, however, consisted mostly of bumps and grinds. The combination left a distinctly satirical impression.

There was competing laughter from the two side tables: Kiyone was doubled over, pounding the table with her fist and barking spasmodically, while Amane had rocked back in her chair and was braying at the ceiling. Those around them were more amused by their Companion's behavior than Mihoshi's song, but everyone was grinning nonetheless.

_She used to love to know she rounded out his world  
She used to live to be all he ever loved in a girl  
And he liked to buy her clothes that made her sexy and cute (cute, cute, cute...)  
Guess she decided she'd been too long away from her roots  
She wasn't crazy; no, she wasn't mad  
She just knew in her heart they had drained her of all that she had_

_She was tired of being blonde  
Tired of changing her life just to match the color of the sun  
Tired of being blonde  
Tired of all the platinum frustration  
Tired of being blonde  
Tired of looking like a cutie on the cover of a magazine  
Tired of being blonde  
Tired of chasing all the latest sensations_

Washu made a gesture and a subspace pocket appeared. She reached inside and withdrew a bundle, which was distributed among her Kardesshibelar. With a flourish, they all donned blonde wigs that neither fit nor flattered. Mihoshi turned, made a 'there-you-go' gesture, and then lead them in a synchronized shuffle.

More howls erupted from the side tables, amidst scattered cheers and applause.

_She wasn't angry; no, no, she wasn't sad  
She was just leaving a life that a lot of women wish they had  
She was tired of being blonde  
Tired of living a life that had only been planned by one  
Tired of being blonde  
Tired of coping with the desperation  
She was tired of being blonde  
Tired of fighting back the feeling inside that told her to run  
Tired of being blonde  
Tired of hiding her own inclinations_

_She was tired of being blonde  
Tired of changing her life just to match the color of the sun  
Tired of being blonde  
Tired of chasing all the latest sensations_

_She was tired of being (blonde, blonde, blonde, blonde...)  
Tired of being blonde (blonde, blonde, blonde, blonde...)  
She was tired of being blonde (blonde, blonde, blonde, blonde...)  
Tired of being blonde (blonde, blonde, blonde, blonde...)  
Tired of being blonde (blonde, blonde, blonde, blonde...)  
Tired of being blonde (blonde, blonde, blonde, blonde...)_

Mihoshi bowed to her cheering audience, pointed once at the coughing Kiyone, and withdrew back into the line.

Ayeka stepped forward, removed her wig, and tossed it back to Washu.

"This is an Earth song, too, although it sounds remarkably like a sonnet I heard growing up here on Jurai. It's a very beautiful work, but also rather melancholy." The smile on her face slowly faded, and she gestured to Trinnard.

The strands of a guitar rippled out of the speakers, warm and lush, another provided a higher counterpoint. Ayeka's kardesshibelar began humming, a quartet of sirens that seemed to darken the room.

_Then she met a hollow soul,  
Filled him with her light and was consoled,  
She was the moon and he the sun was gold...  
Eyes were blinded with his light...  
The sun she gave reflected back the night  
The moon was waning almost out of sight..._

_Softly Ocean Gypsy calls...  
Silence holds the stars a while,  
They smile sadly for her where she falls...  
Just the time before the dawn,  
The sea is hushed the ocean calls her,  
Day has taken her and now she's gone..._

_Ocean Gypsy of the moon,  
The sun has made a thousand nights for you to hold...  
Ocean Gypsy where are you?  
The shadows followed by the stars have turned to gold...  
Turned to gold..._

Seina was sitting forward, arms crossed, elbows on the table. He felt several hands seek him softly and remain, squeezing gently; Neeju and Karen, sitting on either side of him, laid their heads on his shoulders. Ayeka's song was providing his wives a glimpse at a woman who would never know love or Companionship...a fate that they were all very glad they had avoided. He had grown used to their affectionate displays, and so he suppressed his usual self-conscious reaction.

Besides, no one at the other tables was paying any attention to him and his serail, anyway.

_No one noticed when she died,  
Ocean Gypsy shackled to the tide,  
The ebbing waves, the turning spreading white...  
Something gone within her eyes,  
Her fingers, lifeless, stroked the sand,  
Her battered soul was lost,  
She was abandoned..._

_Silken threads like wings still shine,  
Windswept pleasures still make patterns  
in her lovely hair... so dark and fine...  
Stands on high beneath the seas, cries no more,  
her tears have dried...  
Oceans weep for her, the ocean sighs..._

_Ocean Gypsy of the moon,  
The sun has made a thousand nights for you to hold...  
Ocean Gypsy where are you?  
The shadows followed by the stars have turned to gold...  
Turned to gold...  
Turned to gold...  
Turned to gold...  
Turned to gold..._

The applause had a certain subdued quality, very sad yet very appreciative. Ayeka bowed, blew kisses to her husband and son, and returned to the line.

Sasami stepped forward, smiling shyly.

"This song is simply an impossibility," she said, looking intently as Tenchi. "But it's a pretty one."

Trinnard started the disc; a flute played softly, a drum and a bass instrument keeping time while Sasami's kardesshibelar began humming in synch.

_A-ha, m-hmm  
Gonna get along without you now  
M-hmm, my honey, m-hmm, my honey  
Gonna get along without you now_

_You told me I was the neatest thing,  
You even asked me to wear your ring.  
You ran around with every girl in town,  
You didn't even care if it got me down._

_A-ha, m-hmm  
Gonna get along without you now.  
Got along without you before I met you,  
Gonna get along without you now.  
Gonna find somebody who is twice as cute,_  
'_Cause, I didn't like you anyhow._

_You told everybody that we were friends,  
But this is where our friendship ends._  
'_Cause all of a sudden, you changed your tune,  
You haven't been around since way last June.  
M-hmm, a-ha  
Gonna get along without you now.  
Got along without you before I met you,  
Gonna get along without you now._

_So long my honey (so long)  
Goodbye my friend (goodbye)  
Gonna get along without you now._

_Get along without you now  
Get along without you now_

The ladies in the line were swaying back-and-forth, filling the background with a simple refrain. Sasami didn't move much, telling her story with a few gestures and a clear, concise expression. The whole composition had a very innocent appeal, particularly when sung by an adolescent.

A few of Seina's wives started humming long with the chorus, grinning at him provocatively.

_A-ha, m-hmm  
Gonna get along without you now.  
Got along without you before I met you,  
Gonna get along without you now._

_So long my honey  
Goodbye my friend  
Gonna get along without you now_

_Get along without you now (m-hmm)  
Get along without you now (a-ha)  
Get along without you now (m-hmm)  
Get along without you now (yes I will)_

_Get along without you now  
Get along without you now  
Get along without you now  
Get along without you now_

Sasami returned to her place in line, receiving hugs from all of her Kardesshibelar. Washu stepped forward to take her place.

"There are times at night, when everyone is asleep," she looked poignantly at Tenchi, who just smiled innocently and pointed at Achika, "when the house is quiet, and you have a chance for a little contemplation." She gestured at Trinnard to start her music. Drums and stringed instruments cued the ladies.

_I walk the maze of moments  
but everywhere I turn to  
begins a new beginning  
but never finds a finish  
I walk to the horizon  
and there I find another  
it all seems so surprising  
and then I find that I know _

_You go there you're gone forever  
I go there I'll lose my way  
if we stay here we're not together  
Anywhere is_

_The moon upon the ocean  
is swept around in motion  
but without ever knowing  
the reason for its flowing  
in motion on the ocean  
the moon still keeps on moving  
the waves still keep on waving  
and I still keep on going_

_You go there you're gone forever  
I go there I'll lose my way  
if we stay here we're not together  
Anywhere is_

_I wonder if the stars sign  
the life that is to be mine  
and would they let their light shine  
enough for me to follow  
I look up to the heavens  
but night has clouded over  
no spark of constellation  
no Vela no Orion_

Unlike the previous songs, where the kardesshibelar generally only sang the chorus, here they sang all the lyrics. As the lead, Washu's voice was the strongest, but it blended into the overall harmony seamlessly. Drums, stringed instruments, and a piano marched along with the vocals.

_The shells upon the warm sands  
have taken from their own lands  
the echo of their story  
but all I hear are low sounds  
as pillow words are weaving  
and willow waves are leaving  
but should I be believing  
that I am only dreaming _

_You go there you're gone forever  
I go there I'll lose my way  
if we stay here we're not together  
Anywhere is_

_To leave the thread of all time  
and let it make a dark line  
in hopes that I can still find  
the way back to the moment  
I took the turn and turned to  
begin a new beginning  
still looking for the answer  
I cannot find the finish  
It's either this or that way  
it's one way or the other  
it should be one direction  
it could be on reflection  
the turn I have just taken  
the turn that I was making  
I might be just beginning  
I might be near the end._

Washu bowed at the applause, and started to return to the line when she noticed Tenchi rise from his seat and walk towards them. In fact, they all stopped.

"My turn," he said, reaching for her microphone.

"Since when do _you_ sing?" Ryoko MJ asked.

"Yes, Beloved, you have shown a marked reluctance in the past," Ayeka added.

"Who cares?" Mihoshi said. "I want to hear this."

"What's the occasion?" Washu asked.

Tenchi smiled and gestured for them to take their seats. "There's an anniversary coming up in the next few days."

"What anniversary, Tenchi?" Sasami asked.

"The day I unsealed a mountain cave, and released a certain demon — "

"Oooh, you remembered!" Ryoko MJ purred. The women around her chuckled.

" — and set in a motion a very significant chain of events." Tenchi waited while they settled into their chairs. "I've been practicing this for a few weeks. I have to offer my apologies to the author for changing a couple of words, and to you folks for my total lack of talent. I hope you'll listen to the lyrics, rather than my voice. Trinnard?"

The sounds of drums, an organ, and a slide guitar slipped from the speakers, followed discreetly by a piano.

_You know I need your love, you've got that hold over me  
As long as I've got your love, you know that I'll never leave  
When I wanted you to share my life, I had no doubt in my mind  
And it's been you, Ladies, right down the line._

_I know how much I lean on you, only you can see  
The changes that I've been through have left their mark on me  
You've been as constant as the Northern Star, the brightest light that shines  
It's been you, Ladies, right down the line._

_I just wanna say this is my way  
Of telling you everything I could never say before  
Yeah, this is my way of telling you that everyday I'm loving you  
So much more_

'_Cause you believed in me through my darkest night  
Put something better inside of me, you brought me into the light  
Threw away all those crazy dreams, I put them all behind  
And it was you, Ladies, right down the line._

_I just wanna say this is my way  
Of telling you everything I could never say before  
Yeah, this is my way of telling you that everyday I'm loving you  
So much more_

_If I should doubt myself, if I'm losing ground  
I won't turn to someone else, they'd only let me down  
When I wanted you to share my life, I had no doubt in my mind  
And it's been you, Ladies, right down the line. _

Tenchi's consorts erupted from the table and mobbed him.

"Oh, that was so sweet," Amane said to Kiriko, and they both turned to Seina. "Would you sing a song like that to us?"

"Yes, would you?" Suiren and Gyokuren added.

Before he could think of an answer, there was a commotion from the Royal Family: "Come on, Tenchi, you promised! You can't sit down now!" That was the chorus as Ryoko MJ, Mihoshi, and Sasami grabbed Tenchi by his hands and tugged him away from the speakers and tables.

"All right, all right," he replied, yielding to the inevitable. The three consorts cheered, joined by Ayeka and Washu.

The Yamada family exchanged puzzled glances, wondering about the impending actions of the Emperor, and the gleeful expressions of his consorts. Seina looked over at Seto, whose non-committal smile provided no clues. Funaho and Misaki, however, were grinning from ear-to-ear, and whispered excitedly to Airi. Minaho and Kiyone were sitting beside Trinnard, looking through the stack of discs and exchanging opinions.

Tenchi moved into the center of the open space, judging the amount of room available. His consorts spread out equally around him, facing the center of the circle. "Trinnard, would you play that disc in the back? Not that one...yeah, that's it. Thanks." Tenchi's posture changed, from casually erect to cat-like anticipation. He raised his hands above his head. His family mirrored him.

After a few seconds of static, the speakers kicked-out a guitar riff that introduced a heartbeat cadence of bass notes and drumbeats. A woman's voice whispered and hummed in the pauses, siren-like, sultry and suggestive. An organ trilled for effect. Tenchi started clapping, timing it to the primal pulse; the women started clapping, synchronizing with him. He paced forwards and sideways, lost in the rhythm, tracing a five-pointed star on the floor. His movements were predatory, stalking and teasing his consorts at each point of the pattern. His eyes glistened over a wry smile. The women responded in kind, stepping through a pattern that swung them side-to-side in unison without really altering their positions. Their eyes smoldered above hungry smiles.

The Yamada family watched, riveted, as the Emperor danced with his wives. They started tapping their toes and nodding their heads to the rhythm.

_Mississippi in the middle of a dry spell.  
Jimmy Rogers on the Victrola up high.  
Mama's dancin' with a baby on her shoulder.  
The sun is settin' like molasses in the sky.  
The boy could sing, knew how to move, everything.  
Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for._

Kiriko glanced over at Amane, who was watching the dance in rapt fascination...as were all of her Kardesshibelar. It was just hard to imagine the rather stodgy, staid members of the Royal Family dancing with such an uninhibited zest.

Tenchi abandoned the center, advancing towards Ayeka with arms extended. She reached for him, hips twisting provocatively. Hands clasped, he pulled her off the perimeter, drawing her inwards. Their hands lifted toward the ceiling as the distance between them disappeared. And just before they touched, he spun her 180 degrees around. Then he dropped his hands, trapping his wife with her own crossed forearms. She leaned backwards, draping her head against his neck and closing her eyes. Their shoulders swayed to the left, centered, and swayed to the right. Another sway to the left, and to the right, before his rising hands forced her to unwind. The look of disappointment on her face was genuine as she retreated, and he slipped away.

_Black velvet and that little boy's smile.  
Black velvet with that slow southern style.  
A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees.  
Black velvet if you please._

Tenchi transited the star towards Washu, arms extended and palms raised. She slinked forward to meet him, vamping shamelessly. Her hands slid up his arms, draping loosely over his shoulders, while his arms encircled her waist. They remained nose-to-nose for only a second, before Tenchi stepped to his left and rolled his shoulders. Washu's head dropped, and she arched her back to increase the rise of her breasts. Her long scarlet hair brushed the floor while extending her left leg skyward coquettishly. Tenchi stepped backwards and pulled, then turned and stepped to his right. Washu brushed across her husband's chest as she dipped to the right, mirroring the earlier pose. Another dip to the left, another dip to the right, and she was once more standing erect. She withdrew, but the cant of her head and the look in her eyes left an invitation lingering in the air.

_Up in Memphis the music's like a heatwave.  
White lightning, bound to drive you wild.  
Mama's baby is in the heart of every schoolgirl._  
"_Love Me Tender" leaves 'em cryin' in the aisle.  
The way he moved, it was a sin, so sweet and true.  
Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for._

Tenchi crossed the center again, angling towards Mihoshi. She pranced forward, her blonde hair rolling off her shoulders. He used his left hand to grasp her right one, and threw it upwards as his left foot slid backwards. She spun clockwise across his ribs, her momentum carrying her a full step beyond. She came to an abrupt halt when both of their arms had reached full extension, their opposite arms hanging backwards for balance. A pause, and then he stepped backwards again, pulling her along. He caught her left hand with his right one, hoisting it toward the ceiling, while releasing her right hand. She spun counterclockwise as she rocketed past him. Once again, she stopped only at full extension, giggling and dizzy. Another step and a spin to the left, another step and a spin to the right, and then he gathered his wife into his arms. He held her while the music paused, waiting for her to regain her balance, and then gently pushed her away. She returned reluctantly to the perimeter.

_Black velvet and that little boy's smile.  
Black velvet with that slow southern style.  
A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees.  
Black velvet if you please._

_Every word of every song that he sang was for you.  
In a flash he was gone, it happened so soon, what could you do?_

Tenchi's languorous pace stopped before Ryoko, arms extended in an invitation. She accepted, stepping inwards and grasping his hands. He drew her forward until she leaned against his chest. Their hands separated, hers snaking upwards to wrap around his neck, while his own encircled her waist. Husband and wife locked eyes, her face only inches from his. Tenchi stepped to the left, then to the right, movements which she matched, producing a pendulous swing of the hips. A mutual step to the right and back caused their torsos to undulate ponderously. They arced to the left, they arced to the right, and then he extended his arms to disengage. She resisted just long enough to plant a kiss on his lips, and then withdrew.

_(instrumental verse)_

Sasami stepped forward into the arms of her betrothed, her long ponytails swinging to the beat. Tenchi placed his left hand on her waist, while his right hand grasped her left one. She draped her right hand over his shoulder, chin held high, trying to look demure and sophisticated, ignoring the blush rising beneath her freckles. He pivoted backwards on his left leg, leading her through a box-step pattern, reversed to the right to mirror the pattern, reversed to the left, reversed to the right, and concluded at the starting point. The music paused and she hesitated, reaching up to tousle his hair mischievously. Then she backed away and curtsied, which he countered with a bow.

_Black velvet and that little boy's smile.  
Black velvet with that slow southern style.  
A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees.  
Black velvet if you please._

_Black velvet and that little boy's smile.  
Black velvet with that slow southern style.  
A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees.  
Black velvet if you please._

Tenchi returned to the center, prowling around the five-pointed star. The women had continued their own pattern throughout the dance, and now they all resumed the synchronized clapping...until the legato thrumming faded into silence.

_If you please.  
If you please.  
If you please._

They fell on him like a pack of wolves, laughing and clapping and hugging and pleading for more. His chuckle carried across the room. The Yamada family responded with cheers of their own, watching enviously as the Royal Family drifted back towards the chairs.

"Where did you ever learn to do _that_?" Airi demanded.

"It's the latest craze," Washu replied. "You must not visit the capitol very often."

"Not socially, anyway."

"Maybe that will change now..." Funaho said quietly, and Airi colored.

"Actually, Tenchi is partly responsible for it," Washu added, grinning. She nodded towards her husband, who was settling into a chair — despite the protestations of his consorts.

"Do tell," Seto prompted. All eyes focused on the Emperor.

"I got tired of being forced to choose single dance partners — I wanted to dance with _all_ of my family without excluding anyone. I remembered seeing line dancing on the cruise ship during mine and Ryoko's honeymoon, so I hired a local dance instructor and discussed it with him. The result was the Masaki Wheel."

"It's really quite popular," Ayeka added. "At first it was limited to just us and the dozen-or-so other cluster marriages here in the capitol. But someone soon modified it and replaced the individuals with couples. Once the general public started dancing to it, the number of footwork patterns simply exploded. It is not uncommon to find a score of groups employing the Wheel at any given ball, intermixed with single families like ours."

"Could you teach it to us?" Hakuren asked. Seina's other wives perked at the request.

"Sure," Tenchi replied.

The response was immediate: Seina's consorts bolted from their chairs, herding their husband out onto the floor. Tenchi's consorts grinned, and began moving the vacant chairs well out of the way.

Tenchi rose and strolled back onto the floor, the Yamada family parting before him. "Let's see...Seina, you stand with me, the rest of you form a circle around us. I need the Masaki serail to pair-up with the Yamada serail. One, two, three... H-m-m-m-m, we're three short. Kiyone, can you join us?"

Kiyone tried to rise from her chair, straight-arming the table for support, but collapsed back into her seat. "Uh, no, actually, I can't. Everything's kinda dizzy..."

"Well, isn't that a role reversal!" Mihoshi chortled.

Kiyone's buried her face in her crossed arms, her long hair pooling on the tabletop.

"I will help you," Minaho said, rising from her seat.

"_You_ know this dance?" Airi asked, surprised.

"I do have a social life, Hastaba, even if I don't you keep you appraised of it."

"Ouch," Airi replied.

"Thank you, Hastabashibe Minaho. Funaho, Misaki, I know you've learned this..."

"Who's going to watch the kids?" Misaki asked.

"Oh, I think I remember how to," Seto interjected, smiling. "And I'm sure Kiyone will help..."

Kiyone's response was a loud snore.

"I'll help with the kids," Trinnard offered, moving his wife's glass well out of reach. He shared grins with her close friends.

The mob quickly sorted itself into a ring around Tenchi and Seina:

* Ayeka/Kiriko

* Mihoshi/Amane

* Ryoko MJ/Ryoko Y

* Sasami/Karen

* Washu/Neeju

* Minaho/Gyokuren

* Funaho/Hakuren

* Misaki/Suiren

"Let's have the Yamada kardesshibelar all stand on the left side," Tenchi directed, indicating that a number of the women change positions with their partners. He stepped around Seina, placing himself on the latter's left.

"Why?" Seina asked.

"Let's just say we'll rendezvous a little more amicably."

Seina shrugged, comprehension eluding him. All of the wives understood, however.

"Ok, we're going to start with the basic pattern. It's easy to embellish, and there are a lot of variations you can build from it. I think there are about twenty movements that form a cross-shaped pattern. There are several sidesteps, fore-and-aft steps, a couple of pivots, a couple of toe-and-heel taps, and the hip shakes that the ladies seem to like so much."

"Only because the men do," Minaho said, surprising everyone.

"Uh...right," Tenchi replied, forcing his jaw back into place. "The pattern repeats for the duration of the music, and you'll find yourself walking the circumference of the circle."

"Are we doing the same pattern?" Seina asked.

Tenchi nodded. "In fact, when we step forward, we will meet one of the couples as they step forward." Seina nodded, finally figuring-out the earlier reference to a rendezvous. "Since we're going the opposite direction that they are, we will meet a different couple each time. We'll walk through the pattern first, and then try it with the music."

"Let's use the same music you used earlier," Amane suggested. "I _liked_ that one." Her Kardesshibelar nodded in agreement.

Seina started sweating.

**ACT 5 — SUNDAY AFTERNOON**

_A new day has come  
A new day has... come_

_I was waiting for so long  
For a miracle to come  
Everyone told me to be strong  
Hold on and don't shed a tear_

_Through the darkness and good times  
I knew I'd make it through  
And the world thought I had it all  
But I was waiting for you_

_Hush, love  
I see a light in the sky  
Oh, it's almost blinding me  
I can't believe  
I've been touched by an angel with love_

_Let the rain come down and wash away my tears  
Let it fill my soul and drown my fears  
Let it shatter the walls for a new, new sun_

_A new day has...come  
Where it was dark now there's light  
Where there was pain now there's joy  
Where there was weakness, I found my strength  
All in the eyes of a boy_

_Hush, love  
I see a light in the sky  
Oh, it's almost blinding me  
I can't believe  
I've been touched by an angel with love_

_Let the rain come down and wash away my tears  
Let it fill my soul and drown my fears  
Let it shatter the walls for a new, new sun_

_A new day has...come  
Let the rain come down and wash away my tears  
Let it fill my soul and drown my fears  
Let it shatter the walls for a new, new sun_

_A new day has... come  
Ohhh, a light... Ohhh_

Title: "A New Day Has Come"  
Artist: Celine Dion

The sound of lapping waves permeated Tsunami's habitat module. It was smaller than the similar modules outfitted to her descendents, but fully-functional nonetheless. Tenchi stood on the central pedestal, looking at the gardens that comprised most of the interior volume. Ryoko and Sasami flanked him, each holding one of his hands. "It is always so peaceful here."

"We're glad you like it," Sasami replied.

The phrase made Tenchi turn and study his betrothed. She was growing taller by the year, filling-out as she lost the gangly awkwardness of youth, acquiring grace as she matured. It was her eyes that captivated him; unarguably the most sensible (and rational) member of his serail, her eyes reflected the depths of her mental merger with Tsunami. He remembered the fear that had once filled those eyes, as the child anticipated extinction and the loss of her personality. Now, they sparkled with a sense of wonder, as her mind expanded and blended with her symbiont. Tenchi could only imagination what the integration must be like, the vivacious young human and the ponderous ancient entity. And in his darkest moments, he wondered how many human emotions would the entity retain after Sasami's inevitable demise. What was that old saying? 'The flame that burns brightest, burns fastest.' His own life span was still a big question mark, and probably much shorter than any of his serail — and so would cherish each day accordingly.

"Yeah, I've really come to appreciate this place," Ryoko said, grinning wickedly. It had only been a few weeks since Tenchi had conducted her to the isolation and safety aboard Tsunami, where he had guided her through her metamorphosis. Unlike his own experience, which had lasted for four days, hers had taken only a matter of hours, emerging from her chrysalis feeling more energized and vibrant that at any time in her long life. They had then transited to the vacuum, where she had generated her ten Lighthawk Wings for the very first time. And afterwards, in Tsunami's lone cabin, she had made love to him for hours on end. Finally, satiated and exhausted, she had fallen asleep in his arms. Even now, she could not think about the wings without getting sexually aroused.

Tenchi didn't have to see the leer on her face or to feel the wave of emotion cascading through their link to know what she was thinking about.

Tenchi_ - This is not the time for that, Ryoko_

Ryoko_ - Oh, alright. But it better be soon!_

Tenchi_ - Soon. I promise_

She nodded, satisfied; her Tenchi always kept his promises.

The only jewelry that Tenchi consistently wore were two rings: the wedding band on his left hand (with its four gems and a place for the fifth), and the defense ring on his right hand. The latter was a rather blocky, unpretentious circlet that bore no distinguishing characteristics — but he didn't wear it for its esthetics. It was actually a link to his Juraian battle armor stored in psuedospace, which could be summoned by applying pressure at strategic points on the ring. This he did now, and he felt the familiar _itch_ as his body was enveloped by the high-tech fabric and its corresponding energy field. Tenchi had to admit that the whole unit looked rather medieval, particularly with the sensor pads that appeared as warpaint across his face (and the traditional ball-shaped tassels looked just plain ridiculous). However, the suit's assets more than compensated for the cosmetic liabilities: extreme thermal conductivity, vacuum/radia-tion support, gravitic assist, and low-level impact protection. Once he had donned the armor, he was able to fly in atmosphere and survive in outer space — for as long as the batteries lasted. These he checked as a matter of course once the suit had fully phased-in.

Beside him, Ryoko had donned her red-and-black combat garment that served the same purpose. Hers, however, was more specialized to handle multiple environments and Power manipulation. That, and it fit her feminine curves like a second skin. She smiled when she noticed him appraising her.

Ryoko_ - You like what you see?_

Tenchi_ - Very much_

Ryoko_ - I could arrange a hands-on inspection_

Tenchi_ - That sounds good to me_

Ryoko_ - I'll see if I can fit you into my busy schedule_

Tenchi_ - You do that_

Tenchi smiled and turned to face the monitor panes...and there were a lot of them:

* Washu was sitting in the command chair aboard Ryo-ohki. Their daughter Achika sat strapped into a seat beside her, reading a book. Washu looked up and noticed Tenchi's eyes on her — and grinned.

* Ayeka and Mihoshi sat in hoverchairs aboard Ryu-oh. Behind Ayeka, her guardians Azaka and Kamidake had established a restraining field between them, which contained a slowly floating Azusa. As Tenchi watched, Ayeka reached into the field and gave their son a tug — which sent him spinning wildly and squealing with pleasure. Mihoshi giggled at the sight, all the while nursing Miyuki.

* Funaho sat in a hoverchair aboard Mizuho, sipping tea and holding a discussion with her bridge crew.

* Misaki sat on the couch that served as the command seat of Karin. She was talking via private communications pane to a naval officer (who Tenchi recognized as Captain Jelham).

* Yosho Masaki — Tenchi's grandfather — stood on the bridge of his tree ship Funaho, his wife Airi sitting on a hoverchair beside him. Both were actively studying the readouts and sensor logs being projected on the walls around them. Crewmembers could be seen manning consoles in the background.

* Seto reclined on the divan that occupied the center of Mikagami's bridge. She was idly waving her trademark fan, while granddaughter Minaho sat at a console nearby. Each seemed lost in their own thoughts.

* Commodore Linetsskha Ma'rhissa, Companion of the Sumikenki, sat as stolid and motionless as a bronze Buddha. Her bridge crew bustled with activity, as they were coordinating the entire Sentinel squadron, as well as the escort fleet patrolling the mouth of the Corral.

* The Yamada harem, manning their bridge stations and chatting among themselves. The Captain's chair was vacant because...

* Seina Yamada sat in the command chair of the mecha. He seemed relaxed, almost drowsy — and Tenchi remembered hearing his own wives chortling over the rumor that Seina's serail intended to take full advantage of their romantic stay in the palace. Tenchi wondered idly how many shifts that was going to require of poor Seina. No wonder he looked tired.

"Gee, Washu, it looks pretty crowded over there. How did you talk Ryo-ohki into letting you bring all those sensor pallets along?" Tenchi could see many large mechanisms filling the normally spacious command deck, crowding-out the floating crystals that served as the ship's internal sensors.

"She's a good daughter who loves her mother...and carrots. Lots of carrots," Washu replied, her voice emanating from the monitor

"I'm not surprised," Sasami chuckled.

"Besides, I'm not letting this opportunity slip by. I don't think there's ever been a time when so many Wings were summoned in such a small place as the Corral."

"Not since the last major war, at the very least," Ayeka added. "Even during the K'vimm Incursion, the trees were not very active."

"Say, Ayeka, why do they call it the Corral instead of the Orchard?" Ryoko teased.

"I do not know. Perhaps it's because fruit trees can't fly away, and Royal Trees can?"

"Never mind," Ryoko sighed, her joke falling flat.

"I don't see any media representatives here," Tenchi said.

"That's because Commodore Ma'rhissa is acting as the liaison to the news services."

"Aye, Sire," Ma'rhissa added. "There's a virtual fleet of non-military vessels just outside the Corral's perimeter. Media shuttles, yachts, and rubberneckers of every ilk. Even the GP is here, and they brought along a Voudrathi courier."

"Commodore, could you arrange to have the GP and Voudrathi brought close to the fence?" Washu asked. "This show is really for them. But do it discreetly — we can't let them know they're an integral part."

"Of course, Your Majesty." Ma'rhissa turned to her XO and started issuing orders.

"Well, it's time to get this show on the road," Tenchi announced.

"I never did understand that saying," Mihoshi replied.

"It refers to the days when the circus traveled from town-to-town. When all the performances were over, and the crowds had gone home, then it was time to pack-up the props and costumes and animals and move along to the next stop."

"How sad," Ayeka said.

"Perhaps," Washu countered. "But you can't start a new chapter until you've finished the old one. Right, Achika?"

"Right," the child replied. She looked-up long enough to blow a kiss to her father, and then went back to her book.

Tenchi grinned — and realized that everyone else was grinning, too, since they had all seen the exchange (since everyone on the network was watching everyone else). He felt very crowded.

Sasami stepped forward and handed headsets to Tenchi and Ryoko. "What's this for?" the latter asked.

"So we can all communicate with each other," Washu replied. "All of the ships will have telescopes trained on you two, but if any of us need to talk to you..."

"Oh," Ryoko sighed. She had forgotten that Tenchi didn't have mind links with anyone but his family. She pulled the device over her scalp and adjusted it around her ear and throat.

"Testing," Tenchi said, and received a thumbs-up signal from Washu.

"I'll control your audio channels, Dear. If you need to talk to someone, let me know and I'll make the connection." Washu's voice was tinny through the headset.

"Understood. Well, I'm off." He kissed his wife and betrothed, and stepped away from them. The Emblem of Power snapped into existence on his forehead, flaring with blue-white fire. A moment later, his Lighthawk Wings boiled into visibility before him, blazing in their Y-shaped configuration. Sasami and Ryoko felt the effects of his unbridled Power envelope, but before it got very intense, the wings had elongated and englobed him. The blue-white sphere then vanished through the hull, and the lumination returned to normal.

Ryoko's heart was in her throat. She would never, ever, tire of that sight. She turned to look at the array of screens, and noticed that nearly everyone was staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Not many people had witnessed that transformation, and most still believed it was just a rumor.

Washu_ - Ryoko? Wait a minute_

Ryoko_ - What's up?_

Washu_ - I'm worried about him_

Sasami_ - __**You're**__ worried?_

Mihoshi_ - Then I'm really worried!_

Ayeka_ - What has you so concerned, Washu?_

Washu_ - He's never tried anything this complicated before. He may pass out from the strain. His armor will sustain him against the vacuum, but not against all the uncontrolled energy churning around out there_

Ayeka_ - What do you suggest?_

Washu_ - I'm watching his vital signs, and at the first hint of trouble…_

Ryoko_ - Don't worry. I won't come home without him_

Ryoko nodded once to her distant family, and gave Sasami a hug. "Keep an eye on my Little Angel, will you?" She gestured towards the bassinet floating nearby.

"I will. And you be careful, too. There are no guarantees."

"Don't I know it." A moment later, Ryoko floated free of the deck and phased through the bulkhead.

_##########_

Tenchi soared into the vacuum, his heightened senses reaching far beyond the confines of his Power ball. Behind him, Tsunami kept her position near the center of the Corral; Seina had maneuvered his mecha to her right flank, and Ryoko could be seen drifting to a similar position on Tsunami's left. Forming a loose globe around him were the other tree ships, far enough away to avoid interference with one another, yet close enough to observe and contribute. Visible as blazing dots were the constellation of military and commercial vessels eager to watch the show. He stopped when he reached the center of the Corral. "I'd prefer not to be overwhelmed," he announced, speaking into the microphone of his headset. "So, let's do this by the numbers. Sasami, you first."

"Ok, Tenchi." She really didn't have to do anything dramatic; no gestures of incantation, no frown of concentration, no clattering keyboards. Tsunami was listening and already knew what he wanted. For that matter, she knew Tenchi could talk directly to all the trees...he must be vocalizing his instructions for Washu's recorders and the Yamada family. She sensed the entity comply.

Tenchi saw the nimbus of blue-white fire materialize around Tsunami's bow. Like swirling fog, the incandescent mist condensed into a fan of ten angular blades dozens of meters long. Then, with no forewarning, the Lighthawk Wings separated from the hull and began drifting towards him. Tenchi _reached_ out and grasped them, with a mechanism he couldn't explain, but knew instinctively how to use. It wasn't easy: the wings were not composed of matter, but energy, and he used the energy of his own wings to control them. Swollen and engorged, they felt like massive sandbags, heavy and resilient and reluctant to bend to his ministrations. An unbidden memory flashed through his mind, of a time when he was standing in the shallows of the lake outside his boyhood home, pushing a boat towards the dock. The boat was heavy, and awkward, and once in motion its momentum made it difficult to control. The feeling here was similar.

He experienced a moment of rising panic. During his one and only previous attempt, he had been aboard Tsunami, providing instructions while she did the actual manipulation. Now, she had withdrawn all control, other than what was needed to maintain the wings' shape. Though not approaching quickly, Tenchi failed to see how he would have time to wrestle each one into submission before they all converged on him.

And then another memory replayed, this one of a time when he and his grandfather had been practicing swordplay. Yosho had been trying to illustrate a point, and ordered his grandson to push him across the practice field. Tenchi had tried, leaning into it and straining with all of his might to unbalance his resisting teacher. After nearly two minutes, the best he had achieved was only five paces. "Foolish boy!" Yosho had declared. "The ocean does not break the boulder with one mighty wave, but with many gentle waves. Observe!" Yosho had then pushed Tenchi, not with an overpowering shove but with a gentle nudge...and then another...and then another, each in a slightly different direction, each just enough to disturb the boy's balance. It hadn't taken long before Tenchi found himself stumbling into the bushes at the edge of the glade.

Well, he had nothing to lose by trying the same tactic.

##########

Four suites, two bedrooms each — and one husband to pass around. It was a recipe for exhaustion and frustration.

Seina made no effort to hide his yawn. Gods, he was tired! His wives had kept waking him all through the night, allowing him only an hour's respite to recover before the next 'service' request. Like most boys, he had once hosted fantasies about attractive women hunting him relentlessly — and now he had first-hand experience. Be Careful What You Wish For — You Might Just Get It.

He was grateful when Neeju had interrupted the chain and dragged him off to her room, pointed to her bed, and demanded that he get some sleep. He was vaguely aware when others had come knocking, and Neeju had chased them off (doubtless putting the mental whammy on them when they got too objectionable). He woke bleary-eyed and sore, but functional.

And tonight, he would be expected to complete the chain. He hoped fervently that he would be able to find refuge in Neeju's room again...

He tugged open the thermos of tea that Karen had given to him, and sipped the hot liquid. It seemed to help. But then, anything that kept him busy helped him stay awake. He wondered how long it had taken Tenchi and his wives to reach a balanced home life. The Empresses all had reputations for being antisocial — even downright confrontational — but Seina had seen no evidence of it. To his eyes, Tenchi's serail truly enjoyed being together...and he could only hope that his own family would achieve a similar sort of harmony. Someday.

He watched the women logged-on to the network, some of whom were watching him. The most interesting pane, however, was the long-range image of Tenchi. Seina had never seen anything like it (and he gathered that few had, either). The Emperor was sealed inside a cocoon of blue-white light, and appeared to be drawing Tsunami's Lighthawk Wings towards himself. Seina had seen Lighthawk Wings used in anger on two separate occasions, and frankly wondered how anyone could control such a maelstrom.

_##########_

Tap-and-shift, tap-and-shift, tap-and-shift. Tsunami's wings were now synchchronised, falling gently towards him like building-sized shards of blue-white flame. Tenchi breathed a sigh of relief. There was a shimmer inside in the Power ball, and Tsunami's projection appeared beside him.

Tsunami_ - Well done, Tenchi_

Tenchi_ - Thanks. This takes some getting used to_

Tsunami_ - You appear to have them well under control_

Tenchi_ - For the moment. Can you do me a favor?_

Tsunami_ - Yes_

Tenchi_ - Can you explain to your children — and Ryoko — what is needed?_

Tsunami_ - Of course_

##########

"Well, well, well," Washu muttered, glancing at the wall of monitor panes tiled in the space above Ryo-ohki's command console. She focused on the telescopic image of Ryoko MJ drifting in the vacuum, where the blistering sunlight and the arctic shadows rendered her shape nearly unrecognizable. But the luminescent image floating next to her was explicit and familiar: a beautiful woman in flowing robes, her azure hair streaming behind her in twin tails. Even at this distance, the resemblance to Sasami was uncanny.

"Miyaa-mew-mwah?" Ryo-ohki's question ruffled the air.

"Yes, I see her. Must be a technical conversation, 'cause what else would those two have to talk about?"

"I heard that," Ryoko MJ's voice filtered through the speaker.

"So did I," Sasami added.

"Did I say anything objectionable or disagreeable?" Washu asked. "No, I did not. I made a simple observation — and somehow I don't think Tsunami wanted to discuss the intimate details of your last visit out here."

"How do you know? Maybe she wanted some pointers."

"On what topic?"

"Do you really want me to answer that question with Sasami listening?"

"I already know what happened," Sasami giggled. "I could probably give _you_ some pointers, Ryoko."

"Sasami!" Ayeka gasped. "Ryoko, need I remind you that we are on a public channel, and this subject is not to be broached so carelessly?"

"Oh, I dunno," Ryoko MJ drawled, "I'd kinda like to hear what the kid has to say." She ignored Ayeka's shocked sputtering. "So, Sasami, what's your take?"

"Well..."

"Were you weightless, Ryoko?" Mihoshi giggled.

"Nah, I'll leave that to you. Now, as I recall, we tried the — "

"That will be enough!" Ayeka snapped.

"I'll have to agree with Ayeka on this one, ladies," Washu interrupted. "Maybe you should continue this discussion at another time. Otherwise, I might have to pull the plug on the communications net."

"Spoilsport," Ryoko MJ sneered.

"Gee, and it was just getting good," Amane sighed.

"I was all set to take some notes," Gyokuren added.

"And I'm always willing to listen to intriguing suggestions," Seto concluded.

Seina groaned, which prompted laughter from everyone.

##########

Tenchi_ - Ryoko?_

Ryoko_ - Yes, Sweetie?_

Tenchi_ - Your turn_

Ryoko_ - Ok. I'm generating them now_

A ball of intense, blue-white fire coalesced in front of Ryoko MJ, and then slowly unfurled into a massive bouquet. Ten blue-white wings, billowing in the darkness, slowly advanced towards Tenchi.

Better prepared this time, Tenchi _reached_ for them with more care and deliberation... Tap-and-shift, tap-and-shift, tap-and-shift.

Within a span of ten minutes, Tenchi had given the command to each of Tsunami's descendents (including the seed in Seina's mecha), and Lighthawk Wings began to drift towards the center of the Corral.

##########

The sight was immensely impressive, and every camera in the Juraian planetary system that could see the spectacle was recording it — particularly those hovering near the Corral.

Captain Sir Noniel Jelham, IJN, languished in his command chair aboard the destroyer Attakiassa. He had been assigned watchdog duty at the mouth of the Royal Tree reservation because (i) he had experience dealing with the vagaries and capabilities of the Royal Family, (ii) his ship was one of three in the solar system with the new Masaki drivers on-line, and (iii) Commodore Ma'rhissa was still a bit peeved with him for allowing the Emperor to go gallivanting off into intergalactic space (without explaining how he was supposed to restrain Tenchi Masaki Jurai).

Captain Jelham was a man who had learned to follow his instincts. And his instincts told him that yonder experiment was about to produce results none of them quite expected.

"Coel?"

Commander Coel Pil'heureux, XO of the ship, turned from her workstation. "Yes, Captain?"

"I've got a hunch."

"I dunno, skipper..."

"You 'dunno' what, Coel?"

"The last hunch you had involved a certain hand of cards — which you still owe me for."

"Humph! Your insubordination is truly staggering in its proportions."

"It seems to pay better than your hunches do," she grinned, tossing her auburn hair over one shoulder.

"Well, this hunch involves that circus out there."

"Why do I get the feeling that the stakes just increased?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"No; ignorance is bliss, and I prefer to remain ecstatic."

"Wise choice."

"What preparations should I be making?"

"Ramp-up all the sensors, and allocate extra memory space in the ship's library. I have a gut feeling we will be doing business with Empress Washu again...and real soon."

"Aye, aye, Skipper."

##########

Tenchi was fighting another surge of panic.

The good news was that tap-and-shift had proved to be a remarkably successful strategy, even as the numbers of wings increased (thank God he didn't have to _generate_ all those things). The bad news was that the gaps between them were dwindling, and he wasn't sure what would happen when the wings began rubbing against each other. Maybe nothing, maybe _boom_...

He flashed a mental image of a lumberjack running frantically across a floating raft of tree trunks, trying desperately to avoid a logjam in the swiftly-flowing river.

He flashed another image of a grizzled old stagecoach driver, trying to keep a forty-team hitch of horses running together, all of them fighting the reins.

It came down to a timing issue. He was 'tapping' each of the wings in a haphazard manner, trying to orchestrate their movements. What he needed was a way to bring the wings under his control...to place them in lockstep...to harmonize them...

Harmonize them?

And then the epiphany hit him hard enough that he almost lost his concentration. He did, however, yield to the grin that curled his lips.

Tenchi_ - Washu?_

Washu_ - Yes, Dear?_

Tenchi_ - Could you do me a favor?_

##########

Ayeka and Mihoshi heard Washu burst out laughing, and looked curiously at the communications pane broadcast from Ryo-ohki.

"What's so funny?" Mihoshi asked.

"Tenchi just asked me for a favor," Washu replied, her fingers dancing across her keyboard.

"What kind of favor?" Ayeka asked.

"Hang on a second, and you'll hear for yourself."

There was a short pause while Washu accessed her computer libraries, and then a file was piped into the net's audio channel. A familiar guitar riff pulsed out of the speakers, followed by a heartbeat cadence of bass notes and drumbeats. A woman's voice whispered and hummed in the pauses, siren-like, sultry and suggestive. An organ trilled for effect.

"Tenchi asked for _that_?" Mihoshi exclaimed.

"Yep," Washu grinned. After a moment, Ayeka and Mihoshi sported grins of their own.

_Mississippi in the middle of a dry spell.  
Jimmy Rogers on the victrola up high.  
Mama's dancin' with a baby on her shoulder.  
The sun is settin' like molasses in the sky.  
The boy could sing, knew how to move, everything.  
Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for._

_Black velvet and that little boy's smile.  
Black velvet with that slow southern style.  
A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees.  
Black velvet if you please._

The grin became infectious, rippling across the network: the Yamada family acquired it, their heads bobbing and toes tapping in rhythm; Airi chuckled with delight, casting occasional glances at her bewildered husband; Seto's fan acquired a noticeable rhythm to its flourish, and even Commodore Ma'rhissa's head could be seen rocking gently (the stern visage actually softening a bit).

And out in space, the great energy constructs paused, their movements slowing, no longer falling together like massive leaves. With a barely perceptible start, they began to reorient, their random orbits beginning to align.

_Up in Memphis the music's like a heatwave.  
White lightning, bound to drive you wild.  
Mama's baby is in the heart of every schoolgirl._  
"_Love Me Tender" leaves 'em cryin' in the aisle.  
The way he moved, it was a sin, so sweet and true.  
Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for._

_Black velvet and that little boy's smile.  
Black velvet with that slow southern style.  
A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees.  
Black velvet if you please._

_Every word of every song that he sang was for you.  
In a flash he was gone, it happened so soon, what could you do?_

An impromptu line dance had formed across the bridge of the K2, as Seina's wives clapped and stepped and giggled with the music emanating from the speakers. Seina grinned at the image on his monitor, amazed at the sight.

On other ships, Tenchi's consorts clapped as well, watching each other through the monitors and laughing. Ryoko MJ could be seen clapping soundlessly.

Unseen inside his Power ball, Tenchi was gesturing with hands and mind like an orchestra conductor — or a sorcerer's apprentice. The Lighthawk Wings were now converging, their narrow apexes fusing with his sphere. He was constructing a sunburst, a forty-plus petaled chrysanthemum. And he was audibly humming the melody as he guided the dancing pillars of flame.

_Black velvet and that little boy's smile.  
Black velvet with that slow southern style.  
A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees.  
Black velvet if you please._

_Black velvet and that little boy's smile.  
Black velvet with that slow southern style.  
A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees.  
Black velvet if you please._

Each of the Wings was now revolving around its long axis, simultaneously rotating in unison around the central sphere. A blue-white pinwheel a hundred meters across spinning slowly in space. And the perimeter of each began to soften, taking on a definite hourglass shape...

_If you please.  
If you please.  
If you please__._

"They even look female!" Amane exclaimed, watching the monitors. "How does he _do_ that?"

"Wait a minute...what did you just say?" Washu asked.

"That he's making the Wings look female."

"Now that you mention it, they have acquired a feminine silhouette," Ayeka agreed.

"Doh!" Washu exclaimed, slapping her forehead. Her fingers danced across her keyboard, multiple graphic panes snapping into existence around her, each displaying statistics and analytical readouts. "Why didn't I see this earlier? Tenchi, my love, you never cease to amaze me!"

"What did I do now?" Tenchi asked, his voice distant and distracted.

It's what you've been doing all along. I know how you've been controlling everyone's Power attributes, including the Wings. _Especially_ the Wings!"

"Well, don't keep us in suspense," Mihoshi prompted.

"It's simple: the energy is polarized!"

"What!" exclaimed Minaho and Suiren together. Each pounced on her own keyboard, typing frantically and raising layers of new data panes.

"Could you explain that for us non-geniuses?" Ayeka drawled.

"The Lighthawk energy is polarized, like magnetism and gravity...positive and negative...light and dark...male and female..."

"Wait a minute," Airi said. "The trees are asexual, neither male nor female. Calling them females is just a useful tradition, like referring to all ships as 'she'."

"That's true," Washu replied, "but the energy they wield carries a charge, and it just happens to be the opposite of Tenchi's."

"And Seina's!" Suiren announced triumphantly. She indicated her own computer readouts. "It appears to be organized along gender lines."

"Which makes sense. Look at the behavior among Power Adepts: opposites attract, equivalents repel. What an elegant solution!"

##########

Tsunami_ - I am most impressed with this demonstration, Tenchi. It is an amazing performance_

Tenchi_ - Yeah, I'm amazed, too. Really, once I got the wings moving, it was a simple matter to keep them going_

Tsunami_ - However..._

Tenchi_ - However?_

Tsunami_ - It lacks functionality_

Tenchi_ - Flashy but impractical, huh?_

Tsunami_ - Yes_

Tenchi_ - Oh. Well, what do you suggest?_

Tsunami_ - Apply them_

Tenchi_ - Ok...how?_

Tsunami_ - Utilize a process that you are already familiar with_

##########

Kiriko generally ignored the chatter around her. The excitement was rapidly yielding to boredom, and it wouldn't be long before the nitpicking started. She idly wished that she was sharing the mecha's cockpit with Seina — alone. She glanced across the circle at Suiren, who was tapping at her keyboard while frowning with concentration. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm monitoring His Majesty's Power signature."

"And...?"

"I'm registering some unusual properties."

"That's no surprise."

Suiren ignored the sarcasm. "Washu described the operating characteristics of his envelope, so I have a projected baseline to work from."

"And he's exceeding the projections?" Kiriko asked, intrigued in spite of herself.

Suiren nodded.

"Maybe you should recalibrate your instruments."

"No, they're operating within normal parameters..."

At that point Kiriko felt a disturbance from her Companion.

"Excuse me, ladies," Seto interrupted, "but I think you have something more critical to monitor."

"I concur," Funaho added.

"Eh? What's up?" Washu asked.

"I believe Tenchi just made a request of our Companions," Ayeka offered.

"Something's about to happen," Misaki said.

Sasami started giggling, and every face on the net turned to look at her.

##########

"Where are you going, Dear?" Washu asked.

"I need some maneuvering room," Tenchi replied.

"For what?"

"You'll see. I don't want any traffic congestion in the Corral."

"You're not making any sense, Beloved," Ayeka added.

"Patience, my loves; if this works it will become very apparent."

"What do you mean, _if_ this works?" Ryoko MJ demanded.

"Oh, ye of little faith..."

"We have plenty of faith in you, Sweetie, but we would like to know what the hell you're doing."

"If it makes you feel any better, why don't you tag along?"

"Alright, I will."

"Seina?"

"Yes, Tenchi?"

"Maybe you should tag along, too."

"Ok."

"This is getting weird," Mihoshi said.

Sasami just chuckled.

"Really, reishibe, if you know something about his intentions, why don't you share them with us?" Ayeka asked.

"Because, Tenchi wants it to be a surprise, and I won't spoil it for him. I will say this, though: it will be totally awesome!"

Sasami's kardesshibelar groaned collectively.

##########

"Damn, I'm good!" Captain Jelham declared.

"Well, you do have your moments," Commander Pil'heureux agreed.

The Attakiassa's sensors showed that the giant pinwheel had now assumed new vectors, and was slowly spiraling towards the portal to the Corral.

"We should have wagered on this experiment. I just _knew_ something unorthodox was going to happen."

"I don't believe I would have accepted, Captain. There are 'way too many variables for me."

"You watch: any moment now we should be getting a call from the Commodore — "

"And here it comes," The XO confirmed.

"Put her on the main viewer," Jelham replied, changing his smug grin to a neutral smile.

A moment later, Commodore Ma'rhissa was staring out from the screen. "Captain Jelham, no doubt you've seen that His Majesty has decided to leave the confines of the reservation?"

"Yes, Commodore."

"Please disperse the crowd of observers back to a reasonable distance. Ten kilometers should be enough."

"Only ten kilometers? Is that a safe distance?"

"Captain, do you have any comprehension of the energy levels involved here? If the Emperor should lose control of that structure, and it detonated for any reason, the Corral would become the center of an explosion of stellar magnitude, and every rock from here to the Oort cloud would be scoured clean by the intense radiation. And we are _all_ too deep in the sun's gravity well to escape to psuedospace." The Commodore looked like she was chewing on something very sour. "There is no safe distance not measured in light years. Your task is to remove any distractions. Understood?"

"Completely, Commodore. We'll get right on it."

"And don't go too far, Captain. Your services may be needed in other capacities."

"Ma'am?"

"I'm not sure myself, Captain. My Companion assures me that everything is under control, and though the Royals are discussing this among themselves, they do not appear overly concerned. Either way, I'm not privy to any details — but I am sure we'll all find out in short order."

"Yes, Ma'am."

##########

Tenchi shepherded the collage of wings through the portal and beyond. It was not particularly trying: once in motion, the structure coasted along without his intervention. He decided not to bother terminating its forward movement (which was negligible anyway). There were other imminent changes that would be of more pressing concern.

Tenchi_- What do you think, Tsunami? Is this good enough?_

Tsunami_ - The location is suitable. We are well beyond the confines of the Corral; so you need only reorient the structure_

Tenchi_ - 'Only' she says. Ok, this is going to take a while..._

##########

"Now what's he doing?" Washu mumbled. Ryo-ohki burbled some reply, which Washu failed to register. She did look away from her console long enough to notice that Achika had fallen asleep in her chair. Grinning, Washu adjusted the seat so that it reclined nearly horizontal.

"Washu? It looks like he's changing direction."

"I can see that, Mihoshi. It must be a real challenge trying to juggle all those balls..."

"Any idea why he's altering his orientation?" Funaho asked.

"Nope."

"It doesn't appear to have any relation to the sun or planets," Suiren offered.

"I noticed that, too."

"Why don't we just ask him?" Ryoko MJ prompted.

"Because I've been monitoring his mental state. Whatever he's doing is taking tremendous concentration. I'm reluctant to disturb him."

"Isn't he hearing this verbal exchange?" Ayeka asked.

"No, I turned-off his audio receivers." Washu studied the sensor readings on her displays, which defined the meditative state her husband had erected. She made a mental note to provide some aspirin for him.

##########

Tenchi_ - Are you sure we're pointing in the right direction?_

Tsunami_ - Yes, Tenchi_

Tenchi_ - But I can't see that far_

Tsunami_ - I can. You must trust me_

Tenchi_ - I do trust you, Tsunami, I just hate jumping blindly into the dark_

Tenchi withdrew from the construct with a great deal of effort. Tap-and-shift required constant vigilance and many careful adjustments. For a moment, he was content to simply drift inside his Power ball, allowing his senses to perceive the great accumulation of energy around him. He could feel a headache growing.

Tenchi_ - The Lighthawk Wings will need to be released for this to work_

Tsunami_ - Yes_

Tenchi_ - Won't that be hazardous? So much uncontrolled Power..._

Tsunami_ - If you act quickly and precisely, there should be no danger_

Tenchi_ - If..._

Tsunami_ - Why the sudden lack of confidence?_

Tenchi_ - Because this is so difficult, and so risky_

Tsunami_ - Tenchi, I would not have permitted this if I wasn't convinced you would succeed_

Tenchi_ - That's reassuring_

Tsunami_ - Is that sarcasm? I have trouble distinguishing your darker emotions_

Tenchi_ - Yes, it was sarcasm. I apologize, Tsunami_

Tsunami_ - Are you ready to proceed?_

Tenchi_ - Yes. Let's start with your wings_

Tsunami_ - Very well_

##########

"Washu?"

"I see it, Ayeka," she answered. One set of Wings in the pinwheel began to dissolve, becoming incandescent feathers, and then coalescing into one large blade. Moments later, an adjacent cluster of Wings lost their cohesion, the radiant mist being absorbed into the growing cloud.

"He's merging them!" Ryoko Y announced.

"Confirmed," Minaho replied.

"From a blossom to a fan," Seto muttered. She looked at her handheld fan, at its ancient design of folding paper and wooden ribs, and shook her head. "Very impressive."

"I just got a request from Tsunami," Ryoko MJ said. "I am to release control over my own Wings in just a moment."

"Better do what she asks," Washu said. "Tenchi is probably too busy to make the request himself."

"Acknowledged."

##########

Tenchi_ - There. Done_

Tsunami_ - Is it difficult to control?_

Tenchi_ - No worse than it was before the transition_

Tsunami_ - I have the coordinates for you_

Tenchi_ - Ok, what are they?_

##########

It was a disk, thicker at the core and thinnest at the perimeter. It continued to revolve around the center, almost too bright to look at.

Washu cackled, drawing startled looks from all the observers on the network.

"What's so funny?" Mihoshi asked.

"I know what's he's doing," Washu replied, watching her sensors intently. Sure enough, one of the displays showed the expected change. "And there's the gravity wave!"

"He's building another dimensional doorway, isn't he?" Funaho asked.

"Yep — and this one's a real monster. That graviton surge I just observed was much larger than anything the K'vimm ever produced. Remember, they used whole farms of solar arrays to soak-up sunlight from a red dwarf star; Tenchi is tapping the energy of the quantum vacuum directly through all those Lighthawk Wings. The difference in scale is simply enormous!"

"Where does it lead?" Ayeka asked.

"I have no clue, but I — wait a minute." Her instruments revealed a lateral movement near Tenchi's Power ball, a movement that shouldn't be there. She zoomed-in the focus, and barely suppressed a gasp.

Tenchi was slowly drifting away from the disk, no longer encased by the Power ball.

She restored his audio channel. "Tenchi?" There was no response. On the third repetition she saw Ryoko MJ materialize next to him and peer into his face. The faintly glowing fields of their environment bubbles could be clearly discerned. "Ryoko?"

"He's ok," she replied. "He just opened his eyes and smiled at me."

"Sorry about that," he said, voice whispering across the network. "I have trouble walking and chewing gum at the same time."

Washu breathed a sigh of relief...and noticed similar expressions from her kardesshibelar. "Care to let us in on what you're doing?"

"Tsunami suggested that I build another doorway. Ryoko, can you tow me over beyond the edge?"

"Sure, Sweetie." She slipped around behind him, wrapping her arms firmly around his waist. They began floating across the face of the disk.

"Commodore Ma'rhissa?"

"Yes, Sire?"

"Can you arrange for someone to escort the Voudrathi and GP observers through the doorway? I won't be able to maintain it much longer, but I can give them five minutes or so."

"Of course, Your Majesty. I'll relay the information to Captain Jelham immediately."

"Jelham, eh? Good choice. Seina?"

"Yes, Tenchi?"

"Why don't you go with them."

"Me? Why?"

"Well, you're still GP (and thus politically neutral), the seed in the mecha can withdraw its Power from the doorway in case of an emergency...and consider this my gift to you, for your coming investiture."

"Uh, ok. Thank you."

"But do hurry, folks; the strain is considerable, and I am becoming very fatigued."

##########

Ryoko was mildly worried by Tenchi's silence. More than once she peeked over his shoulder and through the haze of their support fields, examining his face. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was deep and slow. Washu assured him that he was ok, that he was merely in a light trance.

With nothing else to do, Ryoko tightened her grip and waited for the show to start.

She had a ringside seat: the great disk hovered nearby, looking remarkably like the Masaki family lake in Okayama, reflecting the sky on a calm day. She watched four objects converge nearby, and approach in single file.

In the lead was the IJN Attakiassa, and as it came level with her it rendered full honors to His Imperial Majesty. Ryoko couldn't help but smile, not only at Jelham's devotion to protocol, but at the fact that Tenchi was totally oblivious to it. Moments later, the bow of the destroyer entered the doorway and vanished. The surface of the disk rippled as the entire bulk of the ship slid forward and disappeared.

In the destroyer's wake was the GP shuttle. It, too, rendered proper honors to the head of state. Ryoko wondered if Mihoshi's Uncle Marrim was aboard. Either way, the little vessel caused hardly a stir as it sailed into the doorway.

The Voudrathi shuttle followed with more apparent caution. Ryoko guessed that there were few sentients in it, probably just a couple of insignificant drones. More likely it was heavily stuffed with sensors and instruments — which is just what Washu, Funaho and Seto were counting on. Not surprisingly, the stubby craft made no gestures of respect as it passed them and slipped into the doorway.

Last to approach was Seina, guiding his six-story-tall humanoid mecha with deceptive ease. The robot approached the doorway head-first, and as it came level with her the right hand snapped into a smart salute. Had there been air to carry the sound, she was sure she would have heard a thunderous _clang_. Moments later, arm and head entered the doorway, and the surface bubbled as the remainder of the body followed. Ryoko heard one of Seina's wives call his name softly.

##########

"I think I finally know what killed my reishibe," Minaho said quietly. She sat rigidly in front of her keyboard, hands resting on her lap, data panes floating above her, flickering their ghostly messages.

There was a sudden silence across the network.

"What have you found?" Washu asked.

"I assumed all along that Achika's body had rejected her son while still in the womb, that the Super Class Adept she carried did some kind of irreparable harm to her. I have just revised that opinion: you see, Achika must have been a Super Class Adept herself."

"So was Empress Mineko, and she lived a long full life," Washu replied. "What was so different about Achika?"

"Tell me, have you ever heard of the 'wild child' syndrome?"

"Yes."

"What is that?" Seto asked.

"A child raised in isolation, away from normal human contact, may never develop the gift of speech, or even learn to walk upright. Such abilities were once thought to be instinctive; that they were so much a part of what makes a person human that they were taken for granted. Such is not the case, however. While humans are hard-wired with the potential for speech and bipedal locomotion, those skills must be learned during the critical period before puberty. And learning requires guidance, which my sister did not have. Achika was a 'wild child.'"

"Excuse me," Airi growled, "but I beg to differ."

"I don't mean in the normal sense, hastaba. Lady Washu, when did Tenchi first manifest his Power attributes?"

"During his second confrontation with Kagato, right after...oh, Gods."

"Ah, you see it now: Tsunami provided the guidance, the example, to unlock his Power potentials."

"So what does that have to do with Achika?" Airi asked.

"Maturing potentials will manifest, with or without proper guidance," Minaho replied. "She received no guidance."

"But that doesn't make any sense," Airi sputtered. "Yosho and I were both with her all of her life. We could have taught her what she needed to know."

"Yes, you _could_ have," Minaho said slowly, "if she had followed the normal pattern. But she didn't. You said it yourself, she never displayed any Power attributes; so you assumed she didn't have them." She made a gesture that encompassed all the faces on the screens looking back at her. "Did any one of you exhibit any attributes before the onset of puberty? Anyone?"

She was answered with silent frowns and shaking heads.

"My theory is that Achika, like Tenchi after her, was so powerful that the cycle took longer to initiate. And like Tenchi, she wasn't ready for the transformation until she reached her Ascendancy. But unlike Tenchi, she had no one available to recognize the pattern for what it was. And frankly, I doubt if anyone at the capitol could have identified the symptoms. There were only four known precedents — Emperors Ashisato, Fusatane, Kuniteru, and Empress Mineko — and Tsunami had been there to assist each of them." Minaho chuckled wryly. "And I seriously doubt that there was ever full disclosure on the details of their transformations."

"I'd have to agree with all of that," Washu said.

"There was no midwife available for Achika. And controlling such potentials is not instinctive...not yet, anyway. The potentials expanded and increased until they reached critical mass, turning on their host and eating her from the inside-out like a cancer."

"But what about me?" Ryoko MJ asked. "I don't remember ever having a guide when my attributes manifested. I was alone and under Kagato's control."

"You're a special case, my dear," Washu said. "You were bioengineered to be physically stronger than an average human, so you were able to withstand the strain to your system. And since Kagato kept you in stasis so much, it helped postpone the final phase. Besides, there are at least two triggers required for the transformation, the physical and psychological components. You've been physically mature for centuries. But you didn't mature psychologically until — "

" — Until I met Tenchi."

"Ummm-hmmmm," Washu nodded. "Tenchi guided you safely through your transformation, just as Tsunami did for him. And that's when you were finally able to summon your own Lighthawk Wings."

"Achika was a Super Class Adept, at least as strong as Tenchi," Minaho concluded. "It's a wonder that she lasted as long as she did."

"I'll tell him all of this later," Washu sighed.

"_We'll_ tell him all of this later," Mihoshi insisted. "He's our husband, too."

"And I owe him an apology," Minaho added. "I've been blaming him for his hastaba's death, and he had nothing to do with it. In fact, if it weren't for Tsunami, the same fate would have befallen him."

"Or Kagato would have killed him," Sasami said quietly.

##########

Suiren stared at her displays, lips puckered and eyebrows furrowed.

Kiriko looked over Suiren's shoulder, examining the same data displays. "Is something wrong?"

Suiren looked up, startled, and then grinned. "Not wrong...just interesting. This chart," she pointed to the leftmost pane hovering above her keyboard, "is an analysis of Seina's Power manifestations over the last six months. This spike here represents the incident where he took control of the mecha."

"Ok...but what's so fascinating about it?"

"Look at this panel over here."

Kiriko did look, and noticed how much they resembled one another. "What is that chart?"

"That spike was produced by His Majesty, when he took control of all of the wings."

"But, they're nearly identical!"

"Uh, huh. Which says the underlying mechanisms are nearly identical — and _may_ reflect parallel capabilities." Suiren was grinning, watching Kiriko's face for the impact of her statement to appear.

It didn't take long.

"Are you saying Seina might be a _super_ class adept?"

"Possibly. He is only 15 — and these readouts indicate that he might be in the gestation period for Lady Minaho's proposed cycle. Now, if we start to correlate His Majesty's known signatures with Empress Ryoko's, and then add Seina's..." Suiren's fingers danced across the keys, and a half dozen floating panels appeared over the keyboard. Her fingers raced to keep up with the shifting information streams.

"Need some help?" Kiriko asked.

"Sure," Suiren replied, "if you could analyze these factors..." She pointed at certain references on one pane, while Kiriko summoned a hoverchair and terminal. Within moments both women were creating a staccato duet.

Amane wandered over and took station between them, eyes flickering back and forth. She reached over and tapped Suiren on the shoulder. "Hold it. That value looks odd."

"Huh?" Suiren replied irritably — until she focused on the indicated graphic. "You're right. Damn!" Her fingers made several rapid strokes across the keyboard, and the graphic shifted its shape. "Thanks."

"No problem," Amane replied absently, scrutinizing Kiriko's results.

##########

"Empress Washu?"

"Yes, Suiren?"

"We have something we'd like you to take a look at."

Washu studied the faces of Suiren, Kiriko, and Amane, each etched with suppressed excitement. "What do you have?"

"I'm transmitting it to you now. It involves Seina's Power signature."

Indicator lights on Washu's workstation flickered, and new images rippled across her holo-panels. She studied them in silence for a few moments, and then emitted a loud, "E-e-e-e-e-p!" Her fingers began dancing across the keys as she verified the data sent to her. "Well, I'll be damned," she muttered finally.

"Then you've confirmed our analysis?"

"Not completely. I question whether he'll be able to generate any Lighthawk Wings, but his Power level is definitely near the top of the scale. Gods, what is it about the men from Earth?"

"Ya gotta love 'em," Amane grinned.

"Especially now," Washu said, the tone in her voice taking a level tone. "Do you ladies realize just how serious a matter it becomes for Seina's home life to be as stress-free and nurturing as possible?"

Three smiles faded. Behind them, the rest of Seina's serail began to gather.

"We made Tenchi's life miserable for the first couple of years, and it did his development no favors at all. And there were only five of us. For Seina's sake, you ladies have to resolve your personal issues and learn to cooperate."

Glances were exchanged, both side-long and full-faced.

"No one is expecting perfection (Gods alone knows we're nowhere near it), but as you love Seina Yamada you had better learn to be friends. These graphs indicate he's going to face some profound changes in the next few years, both physical and psychological. He's going to need you — _all_ of you — and you're going to face the same problems we've had to."

"What kind of problems?" Ryoko Y asked.

"If you think he's a babe magnet now, just wait about three years. Right, ladies?" Washu's last comment was directed at her kardesshibelar.

"Damn straight!" Ryoko MJ replied. "Even when Tenchi keeps his Power envelope muted, they come out of the woodwork in droves. And Seina hasn't even learned how to mute his Power envelope yet."

"I never knew there were so many female adepts running around," Sasami said.

"And then there's that little problem of burnout..." Mihoshi added.

"What's burnout?" Kiriko asked.

"You haven't experienced it yet?" Ayeka asked, astounded. "But you've been married for months!"

"They aren't Master Class adepts," Washu explained. "But when Seina reaches maturity, they will feel the full affects anyway — at least until they build an immunity."

"What are you talking about?" Karen asked.

"Immunity to what?" Neeju asked.

"I think I know," Gyokuren said, chuckling. "Go ahead, Your Majesty. Tell them."

Washu did.

There was a stunned silence.

"_Now_ you understand why cooperation is paramount," Washu continued. "You are going to share heaven and hell, ladies, and you will need to rely on each other heavily. And we speak from personal experience."

Another long silence.

"Uh, where can we get a karaoke machine?" Hakuren asked.

Precisely five minutes after the Attakiassa entered the doorway, its center began to boil vigorously and the destroyer reappeared. Once again, the ship rendered full honors to the motionless Emperor, and then began a side-slipping maneuver to take station on the opposite side of the disk. Ryoko was glad to see it.

The GP shuttle pierced the disk and sailed past, rendering a quick salute before it sailed out of sight.

The Voudrathi shuttle erupted from the doorway and vanished just as quickly.

The last movement from the doorway was the appearance of Seina's mecha, whose head and shoulders rose majestically from the blue-white surface. Once the feet were clear, the mecha stopped its forward motion, and then assumed a position near Ryoko and Tenchi. She was glad to see it, too — and grinned when she heard his wives calling to him.

Ryoko gently shook her husband, trying to wake him.

Ryoko_ - Tenchi? Tenchi? They're back, Sweetie_

She felt him stir, and watched his eyelids flutter open. His eyes focused on the Attakiassa across the doorway, and then the robot floating close at hand.

Tenchi_ - Everyone back safely?_

She could feel his weariness through their Link.

Ryoko_ - Yeah, everyone came home_

"Captain Jelham?" Tenchi's voice was strained, raspy with fatigue.

"Yes, Sire?"

"I trust you recorded what you saw on the other side?"

"Indeed I did."

"Would you mind selecting a few images and releasing them, on both commercial and military bands, with some pertinent narration?"

"Aye, Your Majesty. It just so happens I anticipated your request. I'm sending the images now."

##########

Washu enlarged the size of the main viewing pane — and then her jaw dropped open and her eyes bulged out.

"Washu...?" Ayeka hesitated. "What is that?"

She had to swallow twice to get her voice back. "The Andromeda Galaxy."

"Oh my God," Mihoshi whispered. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It's twice the size of the Milky Way, inclined at an angle of 15° to us, and has a divided core. It even has two satellites. There's no mistaking it."

"How far away is it?" Ayeka asked.

"2.2 million lightyears."

##########

"This is as close as we got," Jelham was explaining. "Lieutenant Yechoua Ino, our astrogator, calculates we covered just over half the distance. I trust his judgment. If you look in the lower right corner of the image, you can see the GP and Voudrathi shuttles. They provide a bit of scale."

The image remained a few moments, and then was replaced. "And here is the view astern," Jelham continued. The center of the image was dominated by the doorway, and the black silhouette that was Seina's mecha. Visible far beyond was the misty spiral of the Milky Way.

"And here's the last image, taken in a random direction. I would like to point-out just how dark and empty it appears. Those little points of light you see are not individual stars, but whole galaxies. Without sounding particularly poetic, I daresay we were in a very lonely, very isolated pocket of the universe. It felt good to come home."

##########

Tenchi broadcast his request, and the trees complied: the energies in the disk were released, vanishing in a cascade of intense sparkles and evaporating foam. All that remained was Ryoko's portion — a diffuse arc of incandescence which faded with a gesture — and Tenchi's Power ball. With an audible sigh, Tenchi dismissed the structure, and they were alone in space.

"Washu?"

"Yes, Dear?"

"I'm exhausted. Would you see to it that someone informs the Voudrathi Ambassador that, when she is ready to leave, we can provide her with a shortcut home — if she wants one, that is."

"Of course."

"And while you're at it, why don't you ask Seto and Funaho if this show was impressive enough."

"I think they are both completely satisfied," Washu said, looking at the open channels to Mikagami and Mizuho. Both women nodded.

Washu's eyes focused on the telescopic view of Ryoko cradling Tenchi. They seemed so small and insignificant, backlit by the sun and quilted in harsh shadows, the stars behind them stretching away forever. Floating nearby was the massive mecha, towering over them silently like some ancient stone guardian. She appraised their husband with open wonder; so small in stature and yet full of such prodigious potential. Uncharacteristically, her eyes teared and her heart stuck in her throat.

**EPILOGUE**

_Joy at the start  
Fear in the journey  
Joy in the coming home  
A part of the heart  
Gets lost in the learning  
Somewhere along the road _

_Along the road your path may wander  
A pilgrim's faith may fail  
Absence makes the heart grow fonder  
Darkness obscures the trail _

_Cursing the quest  
Courting disaster  
Measureless nights forbode  
Moments of rest  
Glimpses of laughter  
Are treasured along the road _

_Along the road your steps may stumble  
Your thoughts may start to stray  
But through it all a heart held humble  
Levels and lights your way _

_Joy at the start  
Fear in the journey  
Joy in the coming home  
A part of the heart  
Gets lost in the learning  
Somewhere along the road  
Somewhere along the road  
Somewhere along the road _

Title: "Along The Road"  
Artist: Dan Fogelberg

Seto stood admiring her gallery. It was a wall of 2-D and 3-D photographs that she routinely updated. No one was ever permitted into this inner sanctum of her residence, so no one ever saw the emotional and sensitive side of her character. She preferred to keep her weaknesses to herself.

The recent collection was not very extensive, focused on a single event: the post-Knighting celebration held at the Palace for Seina Yamada. Here, the two families had relaxed and enjoyed themselves. Among the snapshots on display were:

* The Royal Family, sitting together on their own veranda. They were laughing at something the photographer had just said, and their body language reflected the simple pleasure of being together. The center of the grouping was Tenchi (art reflects life, after all). On his right sat Ryoko MJ, behind her stood Ayeka, on his left sat Mihoshi, and behind her stood Washu — and each of them held her own child, proudly displayed for the camera lens. In front of Tenchi sat Sasami, his hands resting upon her shoulders, and her hands placed atop his. Ryo-ohki was nestled upon Sasami's lap, her humanoid face grinning happily.

* The Yamada family, sitting on the veranda steps. Seina, of course, held center position, with Kiriko, Amane, Ryoko Y, Neeju, Karen, Gyokuren, Hakuren, and Suiren forming a circle around him. They, too, were laughing at something off-camera. And the Yamada wives, too, were leaning against their husband in an unconscious display of support. Fuku could just be seen sitting on Seina's lap, peeking over Neeju's head.

* Funaho sitting at a table, smiling indulgently. Across from her sat Airi and Yosho, exchanging comments and laughing. Their daughter Minaho stood next to her grandmother, leaning over the table to share the witticism.

* Seto, herself, sitting in a veranda chair, while around her stood her daughter Misaki, her granddaughters Ayeka and Sasami, and her great-grandson Azusa.

* Washu was sitting in the grass, Achika on her lap. Ryoko sat beside her, cuddling Nagisa. Ryo-ohki and Fuku sat in front of them, munching carrots and chittering with animation.

* Gyokuren, Hakuren, Kiriko, and Suiren listening spellbound as Mihoshi (Miyuki on her shoulder) explained some technical detail. Ayeka was standing nearby, biting the insides of her cheeks.

* Sasami and Karen quizzing Trinnard, who was actively grazing on the snack trays.

* Achika chasing Azusa through a forest of adult legs, both laughing uproariously.

* Neeju in deep discussion with Washu, both of them staring intently at Seina.

* Misaki and her good friend, Captain Jelham, standing close together and exchanging comments.

* Seina, Tenchi, and Trinnard listening politely to one of Yosho's stories.

* Achika and Sasami sitting in the grass, the former chatting patiently while she got her hair braided by the latter.

* Amane and Kiyone, laughing at a flustered Mihoshi (who had just spilled her drink).

* Minaho, Suiren and Washu together in deep discussion, all of them staring intently at Seina.

* Tenchi and his four children sharing a blanket spread out upon the lawn.

* Seina's wives huddled together, grinning like hungry predators, listening to Washu explain the operation of the hypospray and the cartridges containing vitamin supplements and stimulants.

* Hakuren and Gyokuren, flirting with Seina. Kiriko stood behind them ready with a box of tissues for his inevitable nosebleed.

* Ryoko MJ passionately kissing Tenchi, despite the disapproving looks from Ayeka and Mihoshi.

* Minaho and Yosho, rolling their eyes as Airi lectured them.

* Ryoko MJ and Mihoshi both tossing dirty diapers into a dimensional portal opened by Washu.

*Tenchi and Seina, talking quietly, eyes on the horizon and unaware of the telephoto lens trained upon them.

Seto felt a hand upon her shoulder, and she turned to face its owner. "You are a marvelous photographer, My Dear."

"You are too kind," Utsutsumi replied. "I merely record what life offers, no more and no less."

"And you are too modest." Seto placed her own hand upon her husband's, enjoying the contact. They rarely appeared in public together, and their times alone were far too infrequent. Still, even after centuries of marriage, she enjoyed his company more than any other man she'd ever known. She remembered the crush she'd had on the only son of her adopted father, Ushio Kamiki. It was claimed the quiet youth was simple and slow, and not up to the task of running a Great House. She had learned otherwise; in his breast beat the heart of an artist — he had no interest in politics or finance, and didn't care who objected. She'd fallen madly in love with him, a passion that had never cooled.

"You keep returning to this one," he observed, pointing to the snapshot of Tenchi and Seina.

"Yes, there is just something magnetic about it."

"Ah."

"I cannot explain it."

"Perhaps I can."

"Please do."

"The future of the Empire rests in the hands of those young men."

"And very capable hands they are," she replied. As usual, her husband had found the heart of the matter: unpretentious men from a backwater world, rustic and naive, reliable and honest. It was no wonder that they affected those around them so deeply...especially the women. Even she had to admit, old and cynical as she was, that she found such innocence appealing. She turned to look at the face of her husband, his skin showing its age, his heavy muttonchops streaked through with gray. Her mind peeled back the layers of time, to reveal a younger face, simple and slow, reliable and honest. "Speaking of hands, it's been a while since I had a good back rub."

"As I recall, the last episode turned rather wild. What started in the bath didn't end there."

"Are you afraid that history might repeat itself?" she asked coyly.

"Actually, I was _hoping_ history would repeat itself." He wriggled his bushy eyebrows seductively, his eyes twinkling.

Seto laughed and, grasping Utsutsumi's arm, lead him off into the shadows.

##########

Seina sat in his new command chair on the K2. The bridge was empty, save for himself; the stations were all unmanned, the ship was on automatic. The main viewer received its image from the bow cameras, revealing the streaking starfield of psuedospace. He reclined into the contoured cushions, as they adjusted to conform to his specific body shape and size. Within easy reach were the orbs, the interface between the K2 and his own nervous system. He closed his eyes, bidding a recent memory to replay itself.

The mecha's cockpit had been almost totally dark, save for the muted light from the orbs in his command chair. All of the communication panes were absent; the cabin lights were off, and the wraparound monitors showed the utter blackness of intergalactic space. The universe stretched away into infinity, sprinkled with fuzzy little blobs of incandescence that he knew were whole galaxies. Even the light from home (the great spiral behind them) was so old that it had taken a million years to reach this point. And the light of Jurai's sun, glimpsed just before entering the doorway, would not arrive for a million years in the future...long after he had died and been reduced to dust.

He had never felt so utterly alone in his whole life.

All of his childhood accidents, all of the insults and disregard of his schoolmates, had never left him feeling so abandoned. There was no life out here — anywhere — except for three other vessels that feared to venture too far from the doorway. And suddenly he missed his family, their laughter and anger and devotion and competition. His annoyance with them faded with the realization that, should the doorway close, he would never see any of them again...and the full comprehension of just how precious they were.

The memory faded and another surfaced: "Yes, Seina, this chair came from the mecha. It's been modified a bit, though." The voice had belonged to Empress Washu, and it had come from his left. He placed his palms on the orbs, and instinctively closed his eyes. Even through his eyelids, he had seen the increased luminescence as the orbs flared. He heard Seto gasp from his right. The K2 had responded, pouring information through the orbs and into his hands, and then into his brain. The bridge around him had disappeared, and suddenly he _was_ the K2, floating serenely in orbit above the Juraian moon. Information collected by the ship's sensors streamed into his mind, describing his environment in terms of gravity and radiation, the characteristics of the nearby planet and its satellites, the composition of the parent sun, and the names and distances of every star he could see in the interstellar depths beyond. His reaction must have been overt, because he heard Washu warning him: "Calm down, Seina. Relax, and let the information flow unhindered. It works both ways, just like in the mecha."

"H-how?" he had managed to blurt out. "The mecha had hands and feet, and I knew what to do with those." And he had — the merest intention to raise an arm or pace forward, and the mecha had done it before his own body could respond. It had _felt_ like an extension of his own limbs. But the K2 was not the mecha; it was a rigid structure that bore no resemblance at all to a human being.

"Can you feel the ship?"

"Yes."

"Can you sense Fuku and Mizuki?"

"Yes," Seina said, becoming aware of their familiar presences, like shadows cast across his face.

"Then let me draw you an analogy. You are Captain Sir Seina Yamada, a knight of the realm. And like a paladin of old, you venture forth to serve your king. The armor you wear is the Kamidake II; it encloses and protects you, and does your bidding. The weapons you carry (the bow, the lance, and the sword), these are the arms of the Royal Tree Mizuki; you need only ask, and she will deploy them. The war steed you ride is not a horse, but a cabbit; the faithful friend who will gallop across whatever starfield you designate. Open your eyes, Sir Seina, and behold the family that loves you, and supports you, and attends to the tasks you cannot manage yourself." Seina did open his eyes, and saw the glistening eyes and radiant smiles of his serail, faithfully attending their stations. He grinned back, calmer now, his awareness of the possibilities growing. Seto cleared her throat to his left.

"Here are your orders," she said, handing him an envelope. "Your pirate-hunting days are over. You have new goals, and a higher purpose." She smiled as he took the packet. "I don't need to wish you good luck, Sir Seina — you already possess it in abundance. But Godspeed and smooth sailing."

The memory faded as he opened his eyes, once more alone on the bridge. There were only two sounds echoing through the domed chamber: the gentle hum of the ship's ventilation system, and the music piped-in from the open comm. channel.

The former sound was reassuring, that the ship continued to provide life support as they crossed the empty gulfs between the stars. The latter sound was far less reassuring, as his family experimented with the karaoke machine given to them by Empress Washu. His wives were enthusiastic, if not particularly talented, and were already discussing the idea of hiring a vocal coach. Seina knew his family was starting a new tradition, one that would bind them closer together over the coming years.

That thought raised a smile and urged him out of the chair. It was time to join them.

**============ Author's Notes ============**

Many of the topics addressed in the onsen scene (mostly about Seto and other GXP-related issues) were covered in depth at the "Seto's Fan" BBS. I would like to give to credit to Eumerin, Junior, MaryRN51, JS Morris, Binaroid, Vindice7, and the other regular contributors. Thanks folks, since it was your ruminations that got me interested in the GXP series in the first place.

**THE HAREM:**

In the Western world, the word 'harem' has acquired seedy connotations of prostitution. But this is not the historical Eastern definition. And applying the harem concept to the Tenchiverse has usually gotten negative reviews. Perhaps it would be worth comparing an historical model with the (possible) Juraian equivalent:

**The Ottoman Empire:**

The Ottoman Dynasty survived for 600 years, from the Middle Ages until the beginning of the 20th century. Twenty-four of its thirty-six Sultans ruled the Empire from the royal residence of Topkapi Palace in Istanbul.

The harem is defined as the women's quarter in a Muslim residence. And in the case of the wealthy and patrician classes, the harem could contain many households (a woman and her children, and their possessions). The reasons for harem existence can be seen from Ottoman cultural history. Ottoman tradition relied on slave concubinage, along with legal marriage, for reproduction. It served to emphasize the patriarchal nature of power (power being hereditary through sons only). Slave concubines, unlike wives, had no recognized lineage; wives were feared to have vested interests in their own family's affairs, which would interfere with their loyalty to their husband. Thus, concubines were preferred — if one could afford them. This led to the evolution of slave concubinage as an equal form of reproduction that did not carry the risks of marriage (mainly that of potential betrayal by a wife).

The powers of the harem women were exercised through their roles within the family. Currying favor with the patriarch, and thus acquiring wealth, would increase the chances of their son inheriting the estates and titles when the patriarch died.

The Imperial (Seraglio) harem was no different, and was structured along the same pattern. It contained the households of the Sultan's mother, concubines, and daughters. These were roughly divided into four classes:

_Odalisques ('virgins'):_

These were the general servants in the harem, most of whom would never see the Sultan at all. They came from a variety of sources, generally bought from slave markets or sold by impoverished parents. It wasn't all that bad, really: they could expect a life of relative luxury and comfort, rather than back-breaking toil or poverty. Those women of exceptional beauty and talent were seen as potential concubines, and trained accordingly. They learned to dance, recite poetry, play musical instruments, and master the erotic arts. Only the most gifted odalisques were presented to the Sultan as his gedikli ('conjugal candidates'); the remainder would be posted to the oda (or court) of a harem mistress (for example, the Mistress of the Robes, or the Keeper of Baths, or the Keeper of Jewels, etc.). It was possible for these odalisques to rise through the ranks of the harem hierarchy and enjoy security through their power and position.

_Concubines ('bedroom entertainer'):_

A concubine was, literally, a brood mare. They were the gedikli that were presented to the Sultan for one night, and after that one night they might never see him again — unless she became pregnant with a male child. If she was successful in birthing a son, then she would become an ikbal (favorite) to the Sultan. The greatest honor a Sultan could bestow upon a male guest was to present him with a gedikli from his retinue who had not yet become his concubine. These women were greatly coveted as they were beautiful and talented, and what is more important, had links into the harem hierarchy.

_Ikbals (favorite concubines): _

This position is one of those classic Good News/Bad News arrangements:

The Good News was that she could expect to acquire great wealth and prestige, for her son (daughters were irrelevant) might be the next Sultan. Ikbals learned quickly the intricacies of 'power politics,' much like a modern corporate executive or penitentiary resident. These women could match any man for shrewd political acumen or simple ruthlessness.

The Bad News was that when the Sultan died, there would be a feeding frenzy among his sons to be the Successor — and the victor would be expected to execute or imprison all of his brothers and step-brothers. An ikbal never knew when an Imperial retainer could arrive at her apartment door, bearing an order to strangle her son with a bowstring. Sadly, this was the fate that befell most of these women.

These were the Sultan's favorite women. Tradition allowed only four kadins, but an unlimited number of concubines.

_Kadins (favorite Ikbals):_

Kadins were equivalent in rank to that of a legal wife, and were given apartments, slaves, and eunuchs accordingly. For example, during the reign of Selim II (the Sot), his favorite, the bas kadin Nurbanu, had an entourage of one hundred and fifty ladies-in-waiting. The amount of properties, clothing, jewelry, and allowances given to them was proportional to the affection the Sultan held for them. On the death of the Sultan the Kadins were sent to the Old Palace and their places were taken by the kadins of the Successor. Unquestionably, the most powerful woman in the harem was the Valide Sultan, mother of the reigning monarch. She was responsible for the maintenance of order and peace inside the harem. Being a female elder in the Imperial family, the Valide was expected to serve as a guide and teacher to her son by educating him about the intricacies of state politics. Often, she was asked to intervene/dispute the Sultan's decisions when the Mufti (head of the Muslim religion), or the Viziers (ministers) felt that the Sultan may have made an erroneous decision.

**The Juraian Empire:**

(Much of what follows is simple conjecture on my part, but is based upon observation of TM!R OVA and GXP episodes, with a little "Harem Saga" spin thrown-in for good measure.)

The only people who seemed openly astonished by the harem proposal were Tenchi Masaki and Seina Yamada, both from the cultural backwater of Colony World #0315 (Earth). While there may have been a certain reluctance on the part of the women involved, it was not in any way related to approving of a 'foreign' concept. Group marriages are an accepted part of the culture. A Juraian harem is, in fact, a collective partnership. Whether arranged or spontaneous in nature, all of the participants agree to it, and willingly accept the terms and conditions. (And it is not restricted to the one-man-many-wives model; a wealthy and powerful woman — such as Seto Kamiki — could collect a retinue of husbands. And there are examples of families with multiple wives and husbands simultaneously. These latter two scenarios are not very common, however.)

Juraian society is not patriarchal, but a meritocracy. The center figure in a group marriage, whose family name is applied to all the participants, has been seen as very successful in business or politics. There is great benefit to exploiting that name, as well as inheritance advantages. Tradition gives a certain leverage to the linchpin of the arrangement, but he/she does NOT have the weight of law behind him/her — he/she cannot dictate to his/her spouses. Successful marriages are a matter of compromise and negotiation...which is just as true of monogamous unions.

Juraian marriages are subject to a wide range of structural variety due to the many cultures that comprise the Empire. But one can make a comparison of the obligations and responsibilities of the Juraian wife and the Ottoman concubine. They share the same primary duties, which are producing and rearing children for the family. But they are polar opposites in two respects:

(1) Few Juraian women are dependent upon their husbands, instead pursuing their own careers or, at the least, maintaining steady income during the child-rearing years. This is not a traditional aspect but a pragmatic one: Juraian citizens are very long-lived, and it is conceivable that an individual may be involved in a number of successive marriages and social arrangements over the centuries. One must plan for a reliable occupation regardless of one's marital situation. Which is why a large component of a Juraian marriage is focused upon the financial aspects of the relationship.

(2) It is in her best interests to place her immediate family (husband and children) above her own, extending the scope of the family's property and influence into the next generation. Multiple partners in the marriage mean more opportunities and greater leverage.

Each wife will have great latitude in administering her own affairs, and it is highly unlikely that she would tolerate being ordered about by her husband. The down side, of course, is learning to share one's husband with the other women in the family. This runs counter to the natural tendency for humans to pair-bond, and is the single largest impediment to wide-spread acceptance of cluster marriages.

While all of the above smacks of corporate greed and political manipulation, honest emotion does play a major part. If there is no compatibility among the participants, the union is doomed from the start. And sometimes, economics is simply not a factor; sincere and passionate love can drive the participants together, or bring a new spouse into an existing family. The opportunities for gossip are endless.

There is a unique nomenclature at work within a harem: traditional pronouns are employed to differentiate the roles of the participants. In a female-dominated harem, a wife needs a method to distinguish a birth sister from another woman married to her husband, or an aunt, or a cousin, or a sister-in-law. Here is a list of the relevant terminology:

Mother by birth:

1. _Hastaba_ — singular

Mother of the serail:

1. _Kardestaba_ — singular

2. _Kardestabalar_ — plural

Sister (generic):

1. _Shibe_ — singular

2. _Shibej_ — plural

Older sister by birth:

1. _Jisshibe_ — singular

2. _Jisshibelar_ — plural

Younger sister by birth:

1. _Reishibe_ — singular

2. _Reishibelar_ — plural

Half-sister (same mother, different father's):

1. _Duoshibe_ — singular

2. _Duoshibelar_ — plural

Step-sister (same father, different mothers):

1. _Vicshibe_ — singular

2. _Vicshibelar_ — plural

Adopted sister (different mothers and father's):

1. _Plimalshibe_ — singular

2. _Plimalshibelar_ — plural

Sister-in-law:

1. _Jurbahshibe_ — singular

2. _Jurbahshibelar_ — plural

Sister of the serail:

1. _Kardesshibe_ — singular

2. _kardesshibelar_ — plural

Aunt:

1. _Hastabashibe_ — singular

2. _Hastabashibelar_ — plural

Cousin:

1. _Mensireshibe_ — singular

2. _Mensireshibelar_ – plural

**THE TUNES:**

The music performed during the story is, of course, my own interpretation, and subject to replacement by The Reader. While I don't expect anyone to agree with my choices, I do recommend that you download them from the Net (I used KaZaa) and listen to them. I was aiming for a mood, not a specific rendition (well, maybe I was for Mihoshi...), and picked familiar titles that came the closest to that goal. Undoubtedly, other songs would have worked just as well.

**The Ladies:**

I was looking for tracks with layered female vocals, as well as pertinent expression (i.e., the song's flavor matched the character of the lead singer). I hope it is as easy for you to visualize The Ladies singing these as it was for me:

* "Breathless" was released by The Corrs, whose harmonizing is just marvelous. It should be obvious by now that the five ladies who form the Masaki family have gotten comfortable with each other, and an upbeat song like this one — lead by the woman who arguably suffered the most — says much about their resilience.

* "Tired of Being Blonde" was released by Carly Simon and written by L. Raspberry. As Mihoshi has regained her sanity due to her marriage, gotten a handle on her Power attributes, and is now a mother, this emerging attitude is almost inevitable. Fear not, though: she will always remain a bit scatterbrained.

* My copy of "Ocean Gypsy" was released by Blackmore's Night, although I believe the music and lyrics are by Dunford and Thatcher Newsinger. There are other versions available. It's a sad, somber tale of a woman who gave all, had all taken from her, and was left alone and lifeless at the mercy of the elements. It just seemed to fit the empress whose name equates to 'Royal Tears, Tempered by Love.'

* "Gonna Get Along Without You Now" was released by Skeeter Davis and written by Milton Kellem. There have been other versions, but this one stands out to me because Ms. Davis sounds like a teenager (I don't know if she was one at the time she recorded it, though), and it just fits the scenario.

* "Anywhere Is" was written and produced by Enya. This song is more philosphical than romantic, but I just can't picture Washu belting out a torch song. She has finally found an environment that is secure and nurturing, and is able to tackle those topics previously kept at arm's length.

**Tenchi:**

* "Right Down The Line" was written and released by Gerry Rafferty. When listening to it, I always get the impression that the singer has seen some serious life changes...any of which could have gone terribly wrong without the support of that Special Someone. Where would Tenchi be without his family?

* "Black Velvet" was written by Alannah Myles. While a tribute to Elvis Presley, it has the proper rhythm and beat for a good line dance — and it always struck me as the unofficial honky-tonk anthem for Babes On The Prowl (definitely Tenchi's harem).

**THE ALIENS:**

I believe our galaxy is replete with intelligent life, in a wide variety of sizes and shapes and motivations...all of which are going to appear downright strange to our eyes. An organization like the Galaxy Police is going to be structured like nothing we have ever dealt with before (I draw my inspiration from The Galactic Library described in David Brin's "Uplift War" series, which in my jaded opinion is the best sci-fi speculation on interspecies commerce ever written).

I tend to plot-out story elements on the conservative side, knowing that they (like the music mentioned above) are open to reinterpretation by you, The Reader. If you want a galaxy teeming with alien species and starfaring civilizations, then I recommend using the Drake Equation. The Drake Equation is a simple formula for calculating the number of possible civilizations in our galaxy, named in honor of its creator, Frank Drake:

** N = N* fp ne fl fi fc fL**

And the values mean (in plain English):

**N** = The number of communicative civilizations.

**R*** = The rate of formation of suitable stars. In other words, the rate of formation of stars with a large enough habitable zone and a long enough lifetime for life to develop. The latest estimated size of our galaxy is around 300 billion (300,000,000,000) stars. There are all sorts of stars, varying in size, luminosity and duration, and we do not know what kind of stars could nourish life; but it seems most reasonable to search for stars with physical attributes that approximate our own. Considering that some stars may not form planets for some reason, a rather modest figure of 10% seems acceptable, say, 30 billion (30,000,000,000).

**fp** = The percentage of those stars which have planets. Thanks to advances in technology, new planets are being discovered every month. Within a few years we may have a reasonably accurate estimate. For now we'll say 20% (a standard estimate given by many — including Frank Drake himself).

**ne** = The number of 'Earths' per planetary system. In other words, how many of these planets are in the habitable zone. If you base it on our solar system you might say three planets could possibly support life — Venus, Earth, and Mars. There is also the chance that one or more of Jupiter's moons could support life. If our system is typical, the answer may be between three and five.

**fl **= Percentage of those planets where life develops. Current guesses range from 100% (where life can evolve, it will) down to 0%.

**fi** = Percentage of those planets which develop intelligent life. Theguesses range from 100% (intelligence is such a survival advantage that it will certainly evolve) down to 0%.

**fc** = Fraction of above where technology develops. Impossible to know. A reasonable guess is 10% to 20%.

**fL** = Lifetime of these civilizations (in years). This is the toughest of the questions. If we take Earth as an example, the expected lifetime of our Sun and the Earth is roughly 10 billion years. So far we've been communicating with radio waves for less than 100 years. How long will our civilization survive? Will we destroy ourselves in a few years, as some predict, or will we overcome our problems and survive for millennia? If we were destroyed tomorrow the answer to this question would be 1/100,000,000th. If we survive for another 10,000 years the answer will be 1/1,000,000th. You will find several on-line calculators; I used the one at .

Due to the efforts of "Star Trek" and "Star Wars" and, to a small extent, TM! itself, how many variations of the 'multi-species watering hole' can you name? You know, the by-now-cliché image of a seedy tavern filled with alien spacefarers from dozens of species, boozing and brawling and making clandestine deals in the shadows. I take exception with this image, mostly because I dislike seeing aliens anthropomorphized: rubber appliances glued onto a blatantly human figure, dealing with all-too-human emotional issues. _A-a-a-a-u-u-g-h! _(Just for the record, my favorite alien film characters are Watto the Toydarian, from the first two Star Wars movies, and Pilot, from the BBC series Farscape — because the former is a digital thespian and the latter is a Jim Henson Muppet.)

Some motivators will be truly universal: the need to eat, the need to breed, etc. But after that, all bets are off. A weak example can be found by looking at the cultural differences between the opposite sides of the Pacific Ocean (as Paul Harvey says, "It's not one world"). A stronger example can be found trying to pin-down the motivators of a whale. Even assuming a reliable method of communication, there ain't much in common between us.

**POLITICS:**

My personal interpretation of the Empire of Jurai is similar to the Humankind Empire of the Abh, as portrayed in the anime series Seikai no Monshou / Seikai no Senki (Crest of the Stars / Battleflag of the Stars). That is, a monarchist society that encompasses thousands of star systems, but only in the context of controlling the commercial and military utilization of outer space. They have little interest (or capability) for planetary conquest. Their subject worlds are instructed to provide a viceroy, or comparable peer, who will report to the Crown; otherwise, they are left alone to govern themselves.

But at this point, the two interpretations diverge widely. The Abh are an offshoot of _Homo sapiens_, the end-result of a genetic breeding program characterized by their blue hair, extended longevity and youthful elfin appearance; Juraian citizens are still very much part-and-parcel of the human race. Abh technology has a gritty, nuts-n-bolts feel to it, and lacks the "gee-whiz" technomagic so prevalent in the Tenchiverse.

I highly recommend the anime; the Abh language and customs have been carefully crafted, and are impressive in their details and richness.

**MISCELLANEOUS:**

This concludes "The Harem Saga." Its premise is radically different from most other approaches to the Tenchiverse: that Tenchi's irresistible appeal to his alien 'houseguests' has a biological (rather than an emotional) basis, and that the wisest course of action for him is to marry all five of them. I also wanted to see how the characters could expand and mature over time, while still keeping the flavor of the original OAV. That tradition has now been passed on to the cast of "TM!R GXP" who will, hopefully, nurture it faithfully. You, The Reader, will have to decide on my success or failure.

The characters of Tenchi Muyo! were created by Masaki Kajashima, and brought to North America by Pioneer LDC. This story, while incorporating names and situations held under copyright by others, is copyright 2003 by Jeffery L. Harris.

This story comes entirely from my imagination, and is not, nor intended to be, canon. Please do not send the legions of lawyers after me...it's not worth their time, or mine.

Any questions or comments should be directed to:

Jeffery L Harris


	10. CAST OF CHARACTERS

**CAST OF CHARACTERS**

You can't tell the players without a score card; particularly when half of them have the same last name. What follows is a cast list for the entire Saga, with appropriate comments. Remember: my own take on the Tenchiverse is going to differ from canon in some respects. The two most glaring examples being"

* The "Kiyone-vs-Achika" debate. I am assuming that you, The Reader, are already familiar with the discrepancy between the True Tenchi Novels and the pre-GXP graphic media, i.e., in the former Tenchi's mother is named Kiyone Masaki, and in the latter Achika Masaki — where Mihoshi's partner Kiyone Makibi appears. Frankly, I thought the GP detective was just too good a character to toss out (and so must the TM!R producers, since they brought in Noike as a substitute), so I opted for the Achika version.

* The fate of Tenchi's great-grandfather, Azusa. He is hale and hearty in the relevant graphic media, as well as the novels — but, since I wanted Tenchi on the throne, that was going to require his removal (one way or another). No one abdicates a monarchy unless forced into it, and it just didn't seem likely that Azusa Masaki would, either. That only left one viable alternative...

Doubtless, you will find other blips. What I couldn't reconcile, I at least tried to make consistent. You, The Reader, will just have to judge the results for yourself.

**CENTRAL CHARACTERS**

**TSUNAMI:**

Origin: Unknown.

Age: Unknown.

Species: Unknown.

Intentions: Apparently benign.

For whatever reason, this ancient primordial entity has attached itself to humanity in general, and the Empire of Jurai in particular, and continues to act as a guiding and protective influence.

The first recorded contact with Tsunami was established approximately 20,000 years ago, at a time when Juraian botanists were experimenting with adapting a species of intelligent trees to spaceflight. Tsunami assimilated with the test subject, introducing itself to the astonished scientists, and explained that the arboreal species was the most capable of interacting directly with the entity's vast intelligence and extremely high Power levels without being overwhelmed. Tsunami then suggested forming a symbiotic bond between a human and the Genesis Tree (as it was soon labeled), using the tree as a filter for communication. The individual deemed most capable of sustaining the linkage was Emperor Ashisato, and the arrangement proved extremely beneficial to all participants. It was the Emperor who first christened the asexual tree with a feminine endowment ("All ships are female, you know,"), and the tradition has continued unabated.

As the Genesis Tree reproduced, some of Tsunami's attributes (notably Power manipulation) were passed along to its descendents. The Jurai aristocracy has continued the practice of forming symbiotic bonds to these sentients, the human partners coming principally from the four Great Houses (the Masaki, Kamiki, Amaki, and Tatsuki Clans), which are composed predominantly of Master Class Power Adepts. These pairings form the primary interface to Tsunami.

The secondary interface appears to be a direct assimilation with a few specially-endowed humans. The current emperor, Tenchi Masaki Jurai, is one of only two known Super Class Power adepts (the other being his wife, Ryoko), and has publicly admitted to direct communication with Tsunami and all of the descendent trees. There are rumors of other gifted individuals, but none publicly identified.

And on rare occasions, Tsunami projects a holographic/astral image of a blue-haired, attractive young woman, capable of interfacing with ordinary humans. This capability seems of recent vintage, and must be rather limited due to Tsunami's long-standing preference for mind-to-mind communication.

**Tenchi Masaki JURAI:**

_NOTE: According to Juraian custom, the reigning monarch and his/her immediate family always append the name "Jurai" to the surname. Members of the extended family are permitted to, as well, but it is seldom practiced. For example, all references to His Majesty during his tenure on the Throne should be described as "Tenchi Masaki Jurai"; all references to him before he was crowned, or after his death/retirement, should be described as "Tenchi Masaki." _

The reigning monarch of the Empire of Jurai, one of humanity's two known Super Class Power adepts, and the master of one of the most volatile harems imaginable.

Much has been written about him, and will continue to be recorded. He is personable, honorable, loyal, courageous, and has willingly faced death several times in the defense of his family and realm. While raised in virtual obscurity on a Regressed World, it is unlikely that fate would have allowed him to remain there (such tremendous potential would have been fulfilled sooner or later). His grandfather set in motion the events that ultimately led to his exposure to galactic culture and his own heritage.

His Power attributes first manifested on his initial meeting with Ryoko Hakubi, and his introduction to, and acceptance by, the Master Key. He approached the artifact with the same hesitation and reluctance shown to personal relationships, but he nonetheless persevered. The Kagato Incident, which followed soon after, nearly cost him his life; but Tsunami's timely intervention not only repaired his devastated body, but unlocked the full spectrum of Power attributes available to him. He not only killed Kagato (who had defeated his great-grandfather Azusa many centuries earlier), but he obliterated the dreadnought Souja. This was only the beginning. In subsequent episodes, he evaporated a singularity created by the mad scientist Dr. Clay, survived the metamorphosis of his Ascendency, and personally eliminated large numbers of enemy warships during the K'vimm Incursion. His most recent public exhibitions were held in conjunction with the field-tests of the Navy's new realspace engine — based upon one of his own Power manifestations! He has already carved a place for himself in the annals of legendary Juraian monarchs, and he is still only in his mid-20's.

As noted, his personal life seems to be filled with as many trials as his public life. And most of these are centered around his serail...

**Ryoko Masaki JURAI:**

Formerly Ryoko HAKUBI, she is a tragic figure: a "test-tube baby" and unwilling accomplice of the Eternally Wanted Criminal Kagato. She has spent the vast majority of her life confined, isolated, or enslaved. Destruction and woe have been her signatures wherever she has travelled.

While the lowest point in her life was her attack on, and retreat from, the planet Jurai, it also marked the turning point. The subsequent entombment provided the conditions she needed to throw-off Kagato's mental yoke. When released by Tenchi Masaki, she had all of her wits and her first taste of unrestricted freedom. And her worst nightmare — recapture by Kagato — was eliminated forever by the same Tenchi Masaki.

She is Tenchi's first wife, and is absolutely devoted to him. Separation from her husband is an almost physically painful experience. Under Tenchi's influence she has blossomed from a distrustful and selfish parasite into an independent soul capable of generosity and deep affection. Though still loud and brash most of the time, the family has witnessed many moments of quiet introspection. She is an extremely professional security agent, head of the Royal Bodyguard, and closely affiliated with Funaho. While reluctant to share her husband with the other members of the serail — particularly her genetic mother Washu! — she considers it an unavoidable necessity. She has even made a lasting friendship with her 'sister' Ayeka.

Also under her husband's guidance, she has achieved her full potential as a Power adept, moving from Master Class into the Super Class. She has been seen generating ten Lighthawk Wings, the only human capable of doing so (Tsunami being the only other entity known to share the ability).

Ryoko has one daughter by Tenchi, Nagisa (named in honor of a long-lost acquaintance).

**Washu Masaki JURAI:**

Formerly Washu HAKUBI, she is Tenchi's second wife and one of the oldest beings in human space. Personnel records that include her (notably the Galaxy Academy) extend back almost 20,000 years! Modern biology can prolong the human lifespan by an order of magnitude, slowing the aging process drastically — but the knowledge was not believed to be available that long ago. This has given rise to several myths about Washu:

* Washu is not an original, but the latest in a series of clones, with the memories of preceding editions installed into the current edition by some mysterious process. If the transfer occurred before a new clone was ready, it would explain the many recorded appearances of her in an immature form (a child of approximate 12 years of age).

* Washu is human now, but started life 'somewhere else' as 'something else' and assumed human form. One version even describes her as being similar to Tsunami, who voluntarily placed 99% of her essence into special containers for later retrieval.

* Washu is an android, ageless and immortal.

She is a distinguished scholar and prolific technologist, patenting a number of inventions on a regular basis.

She is a Master Class Power Adept who has publicly demonstrated teleportation, levitation, and energy projection.

She is a certified scientific genius — with all of the personality disorders often associated with the stereotype.

She has spent much of her life in isolation, seen many friends and familiars pass away, and run the gamut of experiences from being Galaxy Academy proctor to kidnap victim.

Washu has born three children: son Mikumo (sired by Mikamo Kuramitsu), daughter Ryoko (sire unknown), and daughter Achika (sired by Tenchi Masaki). She has also engineered two life forms, Ryo-Ohki and Fuku, known colloquially as "cabbits."

**Mihoshi Masaki JURAI:**

Formerly Mihoshi KURAMITSU, she is Tenchi's third wife and an officer in the GP (currently a Detective Captain). Her Power attributes manifested early, when it was discovered that she was an empath, that is, one who can physically share another sapient's emotions without any telepathic elements. She is also Lucky (i.e., she can stack probabilities in her favor), a Kuramitsu family trait. She can be clumsy, accident-prone, and easily-distracted; however, when focused she can be extremely proficient, another family trait. Perennially cheerful, she is the comic relief of the family.

Mihoshi's GP career has been something of a rollercoaster ride. She did well scholastically at the Academy, although rumors abounded that her grades were adjusted at the request of her grandfather, the GP Marshall. She was paired with several partners before settling with Kiyone Makibi, her longest-duration assignment. After Kiyone's disappearance during a raid on Naja Akara's space station, Mihoshi's career took a nose-dive, going through another spate of partners and eventually getting assigned to one of the 'backwater' areas of the Juraian Empire — the protected sector containing Earth. Things went from bad to worse when the Eternally Wanted Criminal Kagato was reported to be in the area. She hit rock-bottom (literally) when the AI of her cruiser, Yukinojo, ejected her to avoid getting dragged into a subspace pocket. Her Luck attribute asserted itself at this point, and she was rescued by Tenchi Masaki. He rescued her again when she was trapped aboard Kagato's ship, the Souja, in the process freeing Washu Hakubi from a Stasis Unit, and still again when menaced by the mad scientist Dr. Clay.

In one of those odd twists of fate (or, maybe not...) Mihoshi is related to Washu through her paternal grandfather, Minami Kuramitsu. He is a direct descendent of Washu's first child, Mikumo Kuramitsu. There are still sufficient genetic markers to confirm the lineage, and may even be the source of much of the Kuramitsu Family's Power attributes.

Mihoshi has one daughter by Tenchi, Miyuki.

**Ayeka Masaki JURAI:**

Formerly Ayeka MASAKI, she is Tenchi's fourth wife and a Princess of the Blood. She can trace her ancestry through at least two of the four Great Houses for many generations. She was once betrothed to Tenchi's grandfather, Yosho Masaki. She has always been a popular figure with the citizens of the Empire, both for her romantic crusade to find Yosho, for her triumphant return as part of Tenchi's harem, and for her repeated siding with the middle and lower classes on economic and social issues.

Publicly, Ayeka comports herself with dignity and grace, and repeatedly serves as the spokesperson or representative for the Royal Family. In private, however, she can be temperamental and emotional (her arguments with Ryoko are legendary; but in truth both parties enjoy the conflicts as a form of release). Her original hair color was the same azure shade as her mother and sister, but it was genetically modified at age four to the same purple shade as her father. However, the process was reversed after her wedding, and it was rumored to be an act of protest showing her displeasure over Azusa's treatment of her husband.

Ayeka has closely bonded with her 'sister' Ryoko, and though the two wives are polar opposites in personality, they actually faced similar pressures as children.

Her Tree Ship Companion is the second generation tree Ryu-oh.

Ayeka has one son by Tenchi, Azusa.

**Sasami MASAKI:**

She is betrothed to Tenchi, and will be his fifth wife upon her Ascendency, becoming Sasami Masaki Jurai. Like her older sister, she is a Princess of the Blood, and can trace her genealogy back to Emperors and Empresses. Her personality is quite different from her older sister, being gregarious and even-tempered. Her cooking skills are renowned, as is her sense of humor (no one is safe from her practical jokes).

She is rumored to have suffered a near-fatal accident during the Kagato/Ryoko invasion, and it was only due to the direct intervention of Tsunami that she survived. If true, then she has been assimilated much like the Genesis Tree was — and by implication, humans have over the intervening generations developed the necessary properties to interface directly with the alien entity.

Sasami is almost never seen without the hybrid life form Ryo-Ohki, riding on her head or walking bipedally.

Her Tree Ship Companion is the Genesis Tree, Tsunami.

**Ryo-Ohki:**

A biological construct built by Washu Masaki Jurai. Ryo-Ohki's substance is primarily Masu, a primordial element with polymorphic and energy accumulation properties. She has been observed in several guises:

* The small furry quadruped known as a "cabbit."

* A large, crystalline form capable of sub-light and trans-light velocities, similar in concept to a turtle. A juvenile humanoid, although this form is unstable and a sudden shock (such as a fall) will break the concentration needed to maintain it.

It has been speculated (since Washu won't discuss the subject) that the bulk of Ryo-Ohki's body actually resides in subspace, and only emerges into realspace when needed.

**MASAKI FAMILY**

**Azusa MASAKI**

Tenchi Masaki Jurai's great-grandfather, he held the Throne of Jurai for over seven centuries. A taciturn and moody man, combat veteran and Master Class Power Adept with clairvoyant attributes, he was very swashbuckling and roguish in his youth. But with the passage of time, the loss of his children, and perhaps a certain resignation to fate, he became something of a rake. Even the reunion with his children was seen as a deep disappointment, and the appearance of his great-grandson was an unmitigated shock (even as a teenager, Tenchi had sufficient Power to issue a Crown Challenge with full expectation of winning it; that he declined was perceived as an insult by Emperor Azusa ).

Azusa died in the early stages of the K'vimm Incursion, when his first generation Tree Ship Kirito was disabled by a neural stun burst, and then destroyed by a torpedo barrage with a loss of all hands.

**Funaho MASAKI:**

The placid but iron-willed first wife of Azusa Masaki, she was born on Earth in 13th Century Japan, as the third daughter of a _daimyo_ (feudal warlord). She is a Master Class Power Adept with clairvoyant abilities. She was discovered by Azusa Masaki when his ship crash-landed, and he was completely smitten with her. They were married on Earth and she returned with him to Jurai. She is a typically quiet and dignified woman, well-mannered and keenly observant. She was one of Seto's star 'pupils' and a perfect candidate to head the Juraian Internal Security Service.

She bore only one child by Azusa, their son Yosho — but his half-breed nature became an issue during his Ascendency, which caused much internal strife and political turmoil. She was deeply wounded when Yosho disappeared during the Kagato/Ryoko depredations, and even more so when Misaki's children disappeared searching for Yosho. However, the subsequent reappearance of Yosho, complete with a Super Class Power adept grandson and his retinue of prodigious Power adept wives (including _both_ of Misaki's daughters), has rekindled much of her former spirit.

Her Tree Ship Companion is the first generation tree Mizuho.

**Misaki MASAKI:**

The exuberant, uninhibited daughter of Utsutsumi and Seto Kamiki, and second wife of Azusa Masaki. She inherited her mother's bone-crushing PK-amplified strength, and her father's total lack of subtlety and sophistication. She views the world through a simplistic filter, wearing her heart on her sleeve. Prone to emotional outbursts, she is extremely loyal and protective, which served her well in her office as head of the Royal Bodyguard. Since her husband's death, she has stepped aside to allow Ryoko to assume the position. She is also rumored to be romantically involved with a senior Naval officer.

She bore two children by Azusa, daughters Ayeka and Sasami, both of whom became part of Tenchi Masaki's serail. When not serving as Ayeka's Privy Councilor, she can usually be found playing with her grandchildren.

Her Tree Ship Companion is the first generation tree Karin.

**Yosho MASAKI:**

Tenchi Masaki Jurai's grandfather, who bore the title Crown Prince for being the first-born son of Azusa and Funaho Masaki. (The title is little more than a polite gesture, and its only real value comes into play when the ruling monarch dies and the Throne must be occupied until a Crown Challenge can be organized.) Since Yosho had the misfortune of being a half-breed, as well as the subject of much scheming and intrigue at court, he learned early the value of strategy and tactics — and the old political adage that "the only guaranteed losers are the ones who won't play." He was betrothed early to his half-sister, Ayeka, but he sidestepped the betrothal bond when he fell in love and married Airi Magma while at the Galaxy Academy (which is why Airi is often listed as his "second wife" — the commitment to Ayeka predates their wedding).

He managed to dispel much of the scorn directed his way when he defended Jurai from Kagato/Ryoko, and disappeared into space chasing the pirate ship Ryo-Ohki. His betrothed Ayeka waited in vain for his return and, in a display of admirable anguish, set sail to find him (with little sister Sasami as a stowaway). They all dropped out of the public eye until the onset of recent events. Airi would later institute her own search, though less grandiose in scope.

The Good News is that he finally caught and captured Ryoko; the Bad News is that he finally caught and captured Ryoko. One has to wonder if he spared her life out of sympathy (he doubtless recognized that she was just an innocent victim of manipulation — an experience he was only too familiar with), or if he had a precognitive vision of her future importance. Either way, he scavenged the Statis Unit from his Tree Ship and entombed her in an obscure mountain cave. He supervised the construction of a shrine nearby, to prevent her and the locals from disturbing one another.

It is unlikely that he was particularly celibate during the subsequent centuries, which might explain why his son-in-law Nobuyuki bears some resemblance to him. It might also explain why there are several clans living in the Okayama area with the Masaki surname (albeit defined with different characters). Yosho has also had plenty of time to squirrel away a sizeable fortune and learn how to subvert the local bureaucracy...thus, he was able to "hide in plain sight" (aided by his Tree Ship's neat camouflage). He has been using the alias 'Katsuhito Masaki' for a number of years, serving as the Shrine Master and waiting for the day when his grandson 'acquired' the keys to the mountain cave...

His Tree Ship Companion is the first generation tree Funaho (christened in honor of his mother).

**Airi MASAKI:**

Tenchi's grandmother. Formerly Airi MAGMA. Airi is Yosho Masaki's wife, who he met and married while attending the Galaxy Academy (before he vanished while pursuing Ryoko). She has had two children by Yosho, both daughters: Minaho, born during their college days, and Tenchi's mother, Achika.

Airi was finally reunited with Yosho in the early 1950's (during the beginning of the UFO craze, so at least _one_ of the sightings must have been authentic!). While on Earth she assumed the alias 'Itsuki Masaki. Achika was born in 1952, and Airi stayed around long enough to watch her daughter grow up, marry Nobuyuki, give birth to Tenchi — and then die of as-yet unexplained causes. Knowing that Yosho was forced to remain on Earth for the time being, she agreed to keep his location a secret.

She is currently filling the vital position of President of the Juraian Branch of the Galaxy Police Academy. It is a job that requires tact and patience — qualities that Airi is notably lacking in. She is not a diplomat by choice, but was maneuvered into the post by Seto.

**Minaho MASAKI:**

Tenchi Masaki Jurai's aunt, she is the surviving daughter of Airi and Yosho, and the older sister of Tenchi's mother, Achika. She serves aboard the Tree Ship Mikagami as Seto Kamiki's adjutant and confidential secretary. Unmarried and (apparently) uninterested in changing her status, she has been scarred by the tragedies that befell her mother and sister not long after marriage and childbirth. Thus, her reticence to cooperate with Seto's match-making is understandable.

**Achika MASAKI:**

Tenchi Masaki's mother, by all accounts a sweet-natured and strong-willed young lady. That she was a Master Class Power Adept is a given; that she may have even been Super Class is a distinct possibility. She never displayed any Power manifestations, so her attributes can only be speculated about.

She met Nobuyuki Masaki (no obvious relation) in high school, and they were married after his graduation from college. She was 26 years old when Tenchi was born in 1979. She was 31 years old at the time of her death from undiagnosed symptoms.

**Nobuyuki MASAKI:**

Tenchi Masaki's father, an architect by trade, a recluse by nature. He was completely shattered by the death of his wife, Achika, and retreated into his vocation and his collection of adult literature and videos. It is fair to say that much of Tenchi's upbringing fell onto the shoulders of his grandparents.

Nobuyuki's initial disappointment in his son's social reticence yielded to eager acceptance of Tenchi's alien houseguests: five charming and beautiful females, one of which was _bound_ to crack his son's shell; in the end, they all did.

Nobuyuki had adjusted to the role of father-in-law and grandfather, and had resigned himself to returning to a quiet and monotonous existence, when he met the widow Reina and her children Ken'ichi and Kiyoko. After their whirlwind courtship, and the subsequent wedding, and the Galaxy Academy Science Station installed near his home, his life is anything but dull.

**KAMIKI FAMILY**

**Seto KAMIKI:**

Original family affiliations unknown. She was one of the few survivors of the K1190 disaster. She was six years old when found, and though traumatized she recognized the Research Station's Director of Operations, Naja Akara. It was quickly discovered _why_ she was a survivor: she is a Master Class Power Adept, whose normal body strength is augmented psychokinetically. (This "superstrength" characteristic was eventually passed to her daughter Misaki, and on to her grand-daughters Ayeka and Sasami. This manifestation has also been displayed by Seina Yamada's wife, Amane. However, this Power Attribute should not be confused with the genetically enhanced muscular structures Washu Masaki Jurai applied to her daughter, Ryoko, which is _true_ superstrength.) Seto's mental acuity was also identified early, which brought her to the attention of the four Great Houses.

Her full potential was recognized by the astute Ushio Kamiki, and she was quickly adopted into the Kamiki Clan. Shrewd move on the old man's part; his son (and only heir) Utsutsumi proved to be less than agile cognitively, so Ushio arranged for Seto's and Utsutsumi's marriage. He died happy, knowing that House Kamiki was in extremely capable hands.

Seto's meddling is legendary: when not playing King-Maker, she frequently arranges marriages for members of the aristocracy and the wealthy gentry (such as the Kuanaq Family). She has ties and spies everywhere, knows everyone and everything. She has also mentored a number of high-caliber strategists, including Funaho and Yosho. She has earned the nickname "Ogre Princess."

Her Tree Ship Companion is the second generation tree Mikagami.

**Utsutsumi KAMIKI:**

Current lineage-holder of House Kamiki. Seto keeps him busy with ceremonial functions and Household matters. Described as an amiable person, if somewhat reserved, he is most easily recognized by his massive moustache and muttonchop sideburns. His long-suffering patience has also been noted...which has doubtless contributed to his stable relationship with Seto.

Utsutsumi and Seto have sired one daughter, Misaki, and adopted one daughter, Noike.

**Noike KAMIKI:**

Formerly Noike SAKATSU, she is the adopted daughter of Utsutsumi and Seto. At first glance meek and retiring, she is more than capable of accomplishing whatever task is set before her. She replaced Mihoshi and Ryoko Masaki Jurai in Funaho's Special Investigations Unit after the births of their daughters.

Her Tree Ship Companion is the third generation tree Kyoko.

**KURAMITSU FAMILY**

**Minami KURAMITSU:**

Mihoshi Masaki Jurai's maternal grandfather, he has been the GP Marshal for many years. Minami takes a special interest in the 'hardware' aspects of his troops, and can often be seen wandering about the docks inspecting vessels (whether this is simple curiosity, or concern for expensive assets, has never been made clear).

**Mikami KURAMITSU:**

Dean of Students of the Juraian branch of the GP Academy, Mikami is the older sister of Minami, which means that she's Mihoshi Masaki Jurai's great aunt. She is competent, not very excitable (a big contrast to Mihoshi and Mitoto); she has no problems taking charge or dealing with discipline problems.

**Mitoto KURAMITSU:**

Mihoshi Masaki Jurai's mother. Mitoto works for the GP as a maintenance engineer (janitor). Like Mihoshi, she is a 'luck prodigy' (and an apparent master of teleportation). And like Mihoshi, she can be surprisingly competent (in typical Kuramitsu fashion) when she is focused on something to the point of being completely oblivious to everything else. Even hostile groups like pirates obey three rules about her: Never shoot at her, Never try to capture her, Never get involved with her. She likes to pet soft things...like Seina Yamada's hair.

**Misao KURAMITSU:**

Mihoshi Masaki Jurai's brother, Juraian military officer in charge of an elite unit similar to a British SAS or US Navy SEAL team. The family resemblance is unmistakable, but his personality is more like his great aunt Mikami.

**Mashisu KURAMITSU:**

Misao Kuramitsu's wife, a Naval officer presently posted as captain of the battlecruiser Chobimaru. She is not a native of Seniwa.

**YAMADA FAMILY**

**Seina YAMADA**

Seina shares many of the qualities of his childhood neighbor and schoolmate, Tenchi Masaki Jurai: Earth-born and bred, he had no prior knowledge of interstellar affairs and politics until recent events. He is considered a "diamond in the rough," that is, he is a Master Class Power Adept with only one attribute — Luck — but it is deep and pure and does not spill into other talents, as is the norm.

Seina's Companion is an ancient mecha whose energy source is a seed from the Genesis Tree, many thousands of years old. Its Power attributes are comparable (if not superior) to a first generation Tree Ship. It is perhaps the clarity of Seina's own manifestation that allowed the linkage, since he lacks any psionic talents at all. Seina's mecha unit has been seen generating six Lighthawk Wings, making it the third most potent life form in human space.

Seina is Lucky, in the same vein as the Kuramitsu Family, but his was predominantly negative until meeting and bonding with the women that would later form his harem. And, like Tenchi, female adepts are sensitive to his Power envelope and gravitate towards him (an effect never witnessed by Earth females towards either Tenchi or Seina).

Seina's serail was not a product of spontaneous interaction, as was Tenchi's. It was a politically-motivated arrangement designed by Seto Kamiki, who had determined that Seina's talent would be best utilized when paired permanently with his GP partners. That they all harbored deep feelings for him, and he for them, was the glue that would make the arrangement viable. Cluster marriages are rare, and cluster weddings even more so. It would have been a roaring success — if it wasn't for the intervention of the 'Seto Scouts.'

The Seto Scouts were four emissaries sent by the neighboring Remza Union (one of the buffer states that exist along Jurai's flanks). They requested assistance with the resurgence of pirate activities that coincided with the K'vimm Incursion and the death of Emperor Azusa. Being a smaller nation without the vast resources of Jurai, and getting no real relief from the overtaxed GP, the RU was casting about for any help it could find. Seto was sympathetic, but at the time had no real answer to their problem, so she kept them close at hand as aides aboard her Tree Ship. However, with the appearance of the Pirate Magnet, Seto acquired not only a weapon to suppress the pirates, but a tool to bind Jurai and the RU closer together. A few discreet suggestions from Seto, and the delighted Scouts approached Seina with their offer. He refused, they refused his refusal, and Seto was reported to have laughed uproariously through the entire kidnapping/rape/shotgun wedding episode that followed.

There is a great deal of stress in the Yamada Family, but it is kept in check in an effort to cooperate. The Yamada women are all 'team players,' and despite the shocking events that created the harem, they are all committed to making it work.

**Amane YAMADA:**

Formerly Amane KAUNAQ, she is an only child, and thus heir to their financial empire. Amane has extraordinary intuition and combat abilities based on that intuition, and as a result she's prone to trusting her instincts instead of deductive reasoning. She also exhibits physical strength attributes well above and beyond the GP's Body Strengthening regimen — and has been seen throwing and kicking large objects (like Seiryo Tennan) considerable distances.

Mihoshi Masaki Jurai and Amane were childhood friends on Seniwa; but, possibly because of the Kaunaq Family's meteoric rise in social status (due to the Kaunaq Family's commercial successes), they eventually drifted apart...which spared Mihoshi the dubious 'pleasure' of meeting Amane's other (self-proclaimed) childhood friend, Seiryo. Amane rarely crossed paths with Mihoshi, but they did keep track of one another.

**Gyokuren YAMADA:**

The oldest of the original 'Seto Scouts'. Nicknamed 'The Ghost' because of her psionic ability to erase her awareness from the minds of local observers, as well as being extremely reticent. As the old saying goes, "Still waters run deep," and her feelings for Seina are seldom expressed but unmistakable.

**Hakuren YAMADA:**

The leader of the original 'Seto Scouts'. Humorless and impatient, she often trades tact for brevity. She is also prone to leaping to conclusions. She has a gentle side, though, and is often found daydreaming (which tends to center around the mundane, practical aspects of living with Seina).

**Karen YAMADA:**

The youngest, the most outspoken, and generally the most sensible of the original 'Seto Scouts'. Being the closest to Seina in age, she is best able to relate to him, and often provides the advice that defuses potentially explosive situations. She works the hardest to provide a domestic framework for Seina's serail.

**Kiriko YAMADA:**

Formerly Kiriko MASAKI, she is normally a very quiet and intense individual — until provoked. She has looked after Seina since he was a child, as one of the boy's few friends (another being her younger brother Kai), and is thus very protective of him.

Kiriko, like Tenchi Masaki Jurai's father Nobuyuki Masaki, is a native of Earth but with Imperial DNA in her constitution. If fact, she was recruited for the GP early, explaining her long absences to family and friends as "being away at college." She has had the standard Body Conditioning regimen required of all GP cadets, and on at least one occasion has demonstrated her skills at tactical assault and hostage retrieval, hinting of extensive special training.

While not a Master Class Power Adept, her psionic rating is high enough to allow bonding with the second generation Tree Ship Mizuki.

**Neeju YAMADA:**

Formerly Neeju NA MELMAS, she served for 2000 years as the high priestess of the religious state of the planet Melmas. Neeju's adolescent form was biochemically 'frozen' for ecumenical interests upon her assumption of the office, and was maintained throughout her term of service. But when she returned to secular life, the antiagathic treatments were terminated, allowing her to age normally. She was forced to resign her position when the Grand Council grew tired of her incessant political meddling and increasing support from the general populace, fearing that she might foment a revolution.

**Ryoko YAMADA:**

Formerly Ryoko BALTA, and a recently-recognized member of the Imperial Balta Family, life has not been kind to her. Her parents had rejected the privilege and prestige of the aristocratic lifestyle, and instead raised their only daughter in seclusion. Perhaps this was due to her manifesting Power attributes (she is metamorphic, i.e., a shape-shifter), or maybe just a general rejection of the ostentation expected of their station. For whatever reason, the result was a quiet childhood steeped in education and the social graces. However, this shelter was shattered by the death of her parents while a juvenile, and she was raised in an orphanage. The change was both brutal and traumatic: she spent more time on the street than in the schoolroom, racking-up an impressive criminal record. In the end, she only escaped prison by running away to the stars.

She acquired the sobriquet 'Ryoko' among the pirate guilds, pasted onto her as an affront to her affinity for the genteel arts. The historical Ryoko (Ryoko Masaki Jurai) had a reputation for ferocity and tactical genius, and she turned the tables on her tormentors by bearing the name proudly. Despite her impressive reputation, she is actually quite refined...a definite paradox.

**Suiren YAMADA:**

The cyberneticist of the original 'Seto Scouts'. Gentle and studious by nature, excellent with computers, she is also a noted clairvoyant. Her dreams are often disturbing and precognitive...and usually centered around Seina. She has been tutoring Seina to bring him on par with educational 'norms' established throughout human space.

**Fuku:**

Fuku is a Masu-bred life form created by Washu Masaki Jurai, similar to Ryo-Ohki. While Fuku is capable of generating some impressive Power manifestations, she can't compete with Ryo-Ohki in terms of raw energy. However, while Ryo-Ohki is extremely flexible as an individual, Fuku's forte is her ability to form symbiotic links with artificial constructs (notably spaceships). Thus, they are rated in the same class.

Fuku's most successful linkage is with the Kamidake II (K2), a prototype vessel built by Washu. The vessel contains not only state-of-the-art Juraian technology, but many custom functions added by its designer. Kiriko Yamada's Companion Mizuki has also been linked to the K2, and when working in concert the vessel is nearly as powerful as a first generation Tree Ship. However, since both Fuku and Mizuki are still immature, difficulties often surface in their dealings with humans.

**OTHER CHARACTERS**

**Kagato AKARA:**

Eternally Wanted Criminal responsible for vandalism on an enormous scale. A clone of Naja Akara, he inherited all of her intellect and her basic disregard for life (human and otherwise)...probably because he knew himself to be an artificial creation. A very bitter individual, he learned early to seek Power in all its many forms. Probably not a Master Class Power Adept originally, he found artificial ways to augment his inherent talents and boost his skills far beyond their natural limits. He pursued his goals with a ruthless single-mindedness, along the way indulging his tastes for cruel amusements. Among the many crimes attributed to him:

* Destroying priceless artifacts and plundering ancient ruins chasing tales of ancient Power sources.

* Kidnapping anyone that might prove useful, murdering anyone that proved an obstruction (Washu Hakubi fell into the former category, and Tenchi Masaki nearly fell into the latter category).

* Enslaving Ryoko Hakubi for centuries to do his dirty work, letting her take the blame for some of his nefarious activities.

* He nearly killed Azusa Masaki in a duel, which leads to speculation that he was strong enough to win a Crown Challenge (a thought which sends shivers down the spines of many historians).

Kagato finally met his match in his second confrontation with Tenchi Masaki.

**Naja AKARA:**

Washu Masaki Jurai's schoolmate from their days in the Galaxy Academy. They were intellectual equals, and formed a deep friendship that lasted until Naja's Research Station on K1190 was attacked. Naja went into hiding for a very long time, eventually surfacing with revenge as the sole motivating force in her life.

Naja's terrorist activities were finally ended when she kidnapped Mihoshi and Ryoko Masaki Jurai, with the intention of dissecting the former and impregnating the latter with some of her son's frozen sperm. Not surprisingly, their husband objected — lethally.

**Dr. CLAY:**

An old rival of Washu Masaki Jurai's, she outmaneuvered him to become Proctor of the Galaxy Academy many centuries ago. He never forgave her for that, and when the opportunity came to get even, he jumped on it with panache. His personal starship was an interesting mix of high technology and classical art, which was destroyed when he caused the reactor core to implode into a singularity.

He had many automated servants, the most important being Zero: a chameleoid AI capable of independent action. Zero copied Ryoko Hakubi and infiltrated the Masaki household on Earth, in an attempt to get at Washu. In the end, the plan failed because Ryoko's engrams were too potent, and the AI assumed all of Ryoko's personality traits — particularly her love for Tenchi.

**Professor Araciela GAYAL:**

Highly respected vocal coach living in the Juraian capitol, and affiliated with the Galaxy Academy. An acquaintance of Former Empress Misaki Masaki, the latter was instrumental in arranging an interview with the Emperor, which resulted in voice instruction for the members of his serail.

**Professor Kiyuma GAYAL:**

Accomplished musician who assists her mother Araciela with her clients and research projects.

**Captain Sir Noniel JELHAM, IJN:**

Commanding officer of the destroyer Attakiassa, the testbed for the Navy's new prototype realspace driver. He made a big splash in internal Naval politics when he applied his expertise at torpedo warfare to revising the standard curriculum for the Naval War College. He has many supporters within the Naval hierarchy — and he had to call-in a lot of favors to win the plum assignment.

He has also been seen frequently in the company of Former Empress Misaki Masaki, leading to a host of rumors of romantic involvement.

**Baron Kitsune MASAKI:**

Special Envoy for His Majesty Emperor Azusa, and his distant cousin. The Baron was sent to Earth to deliver an ultimatum to the emperor's great-grandson: pick a wife, and prepare to return to Jurai for a 'proper' education. While Tenchi Masaki ultimately yielded to the latter request, he side-stepped the former by proposing to all five of his houseguests (who promptly accepted) at his grandfather's suggestion. The official reply delivered by the Baron caused quite a stir at the capitol.

**Rear Admiral Kowis MOBINITA, IJN:**

Admiral Mobinita had been assigned the 'cakewalk' task of shadowing Tenchi Masaki on one of his visits back to Earth. It proved to be far more difficult, however, since his task force became the target of a K'vimm Squadron in the opening phases of their Incursion, and his command was used as the backbone of Crown Prince Tenchi's effort to break the K'vimm blockade around Jurai.

Admiral Mobinita also coordinated the field trials and initial combat simulations for the new Masaki Drive realspace engines, and thus provided official media 'cover' when the Genesis Tree and the IJN destroyer Attakiassa vanished during the early stages of the exercises.

**Kiyone QUALSTON:**

Formerly Kiyone MAKIBI. Ambitious workaholic, she is the no-nonsense partner that Mihoshi Masaki accidentally pushed off a gantry during a firefight at Naja Akara's space station. Listed as MIA and presumed dead, she was actually trapped at the event horizon created when the station's reactor core contracted into a singularity. Rescued by Washu Masaki Jurai, she later quit the GP to work in Former Empress Funaho Masaki's Special Investigations Unit. Married to Tenchi's friend Sir Trinnard Qualston.

**Sir Trinnard QUALSTON:**

Tenchi's close friend and sponsor in the Order of the Flaming Sword, one of the Chivalrous Orders of the Empire of Jurai. A former firefighter, athletic, and very outgoing, he has served as Tenchi's Companion and bodyguard on several occasions. Recently married to Kiyone Makibi, Mihoshi Masaki Jurai's close friend.

**Seiryo TENNAN:**

Galactic loser par excellence. Nature dealt him a bad hand with thick, pink, poofy hair, and his personality merely exacerbated the problem. The Tennan family is filthy rich, if unscrupulous, and Seiryo certainly followed the pattern. He is alleged to be something of a genius, but as so often happens with prodigies he wavers between sanity and lunacy. Azusa attempted to marry him to Ayeka at one point, which resulted in a duel with Tenchi Masaki Jurai. As with everything that Seiryo touches, it resulted in a humiliating swim in the Masaki Family lake — but if circumstances had actually resorted to swordplay, the outcome may very well have been different (he's reportedly an excellent swordsman). Afterwards, he spent some time as an instructor in the GP (making a real nuisance of himself to childhood acquaintance Amane Yamada), followed by a stint with the pirate guilds, and eventually a partnership with Naja Akara — that got him clapped into prison on charges of treason.

**TOKIMI:**

Origin: Unknown.

Age: Unknown.

Species: Unknown.

Intentions: Unknown.

This entity is seldom discussed, usually in whispers, and with generous helpings of apprehension. The indications are that it is of the same class/type/species as Tsunami, thus, transgalactic in nature. Knowledge of Tokimi's existence was revealed by Washu on a strictly need-to-know basis. It has been surmised that Tsunami's goals and efforts are preparations in case Tokimi ever makes an appearance, but there is no real proof of this, and Tsunami remains deliberately vague on the subject.

**ROYAL TREE SHIPS**

It was said that the most ancient Trees did not grow in rich soils and warm climates, but struggled mightily in harsh soils at high altitudes, like Brobdinagian bonsai trees. Thin clear air and dense ultraviolet radiation toughened these leviathans, whose dense resinous woods and meter-thick bark were virtually impervious to insects and bacteria. Crystal structures in their trunks, nurtured and accumulated over many millennia, eventually reached a critical mass, and consciousness arose. A slow, sonorous form of mind, rich in memory and cognition and power. They observed the frantic creatures living and dying around them with a curious amusement, a perspective possible only to an organism whose life span was measured in thousands of years. Inevitably, their own sentience was recognized by one of the fervent, far-ranging species (humanity), and communication was established. Dialogs yielded to discourse and eventually to deals, and one of the ancient ones consented to form a symbiosis with a leader among the humans.

The Tree (dubbed The Genesis Tree by those with optimistic visions) was transplanted into a custom-tailored Habitat Module, where its roots and branches were coaxed to borrow through the semi-permeable membrane. Since its bark was already highly radiation- and temperature-resistant, adaptation to the vacuum of space was easy: it was sealed with a witch's brew of nutrient baths and DNA-modifiers, and the neural networks of the Habitat were integrated with the Tree's crystals and capillary systems. Armed with its solidified skin and the locomotive capabilities of the Habitat, the Tree was ferried into the microgravity of outer space, where it learned how to become ambulatory and, eventually, to sail across the sea of stars.

The process served as a model for successive generations. Each new seed is planted in a climate-controlled greenhouse unit, where it is monitored over the centuries of root expansion. As the sapling matures, it rouses from dormancy and starts communicating with its far-flung siblings. At that point the botanists of the Imperial Arboretum begin the process of preparing the young Tree for a life in space, as well as introducing it to the bevy of human Bonding Candidates. The Trees are neither pets nor livestock, but fully sapient beings. It is _they_ who examine the eager humans, and it is _they_ who render acceptance or denial. A successful pairing is a cause to celebrate, and a Bonding Ceremony is then held to consummate the event. (The tradition was started by Emperor Ashisato, who had successfully Bonded with The Genesis Tree. It was also he who started the tradition of christening the asexual sentients with a feminine endowment — i.e., naming the tree — no doubt prompted by the discovery that the Tree had been recently assimilated by Tsunami, and the subsequent "storm" that resulted.) Afterwards, the human Companion's basic physiology is modified to accept energy from the Tree, extending his/her lifespan considerably (a must when dealing with the long-lived Trees).

So successful was the pattern that it was bred into the offspring of each symbiont, replicating down the generations as successive pairings continued. And, just as no two humans are identical in appearance or temperament, no two Trees are identical in appearance or temperament. Neither symbiont loses any of their individuality; it is the harmony and close cooperation of both participants that makes the union so fruitful and productive.

However, in time a flaw was discovered: unlike the humans, descending generations of Trees experienced a loss in their ability to manipulate Power. The first generation Trees contained only a fraction of Tsunami's attributes, the second generation trees manifested even less. By the third and fourth generations, their abilities were almost nonexistent. Dilution and dissipation of some critical quality had occurred. Both species were deeply disappointed, and so the nature of the linkage was wrapped in secrecy, and public perceptions were altered. In the end, first-generation Trees were paired to members of the Royal Family, second-generation Trees partnered with ranking nobility, and third-generation and fourth-generation Trees were parsed to various Juraian fleets, to be used as flagships and diplomatic couriers. There were less than a hundred of them. The fifth generation were even now growing in the Imperial Arboretum, but expectations are not high. (The Navy, however, relishes the prospect of more Trees for its fleets — they were still formidable by normal standards, and vastly preferable to traditional steel-hulled vessels.)

**THE GENESIS TREE ('Ouke no ki'):**

The only member of the sentient arboreal species to consent to genetic manipulation, rendering it capable of survival in the harsh environment of outer space. No other member of the species was willing to make the adaptation. The point eventually became moot: once the modifications were completed the Tree was assimilated by Tsunami, and it/they/she was more than willing to donate seeds to the continuation of the project.

The Genesis Tree's current Companion is Sasami Masaki.

**The First Generation:**

There were only five successful progeny in the first generation, usually attached to members of the Royal Family or lineage holders of the four Great Houses. These are:

* Kirito (deceased) / Azusa Masaki (deceased)

* Mizuho / Funaho Masaki

* Karin / Misaki Masaki

* Funaho / Yosho Masaki

* Yuubu / Fleet Admiral Kasumi Masaki, IJN

**The Second Generation:**

There were 12 saplings in the second generation, attached to ranking nobility across the Four Great Houses. These include:

* Mikagami / Seto Kamiki

* Ryu-oh / Ayeka Masaki Jurai

* Mizuki / Kiriko Masaki Yamada

**The Third Generation:**

There were 27 saplings in the third generation, attached to second rank nobility and the Sentinental Squadron protecting Jurai. These include:

* Kyoko / Noike Sakatsu Kamiki

* Sumikenki / Commodore Linetsskha Ma'rhissa, IJN

**The Fourth Generation:**

There were 38 saplings in the fourth generation, five of which are assigned to the Sentinental Squadron, while the remainder were distributed throughout the Imperial Fleets.

**The Fifth Generation:**

There are nearly sixty fifth-generation trees presently growing in the Royal Arboretum. The first stand will reach maturity in the next decade, bringing the total number in service to well over 100.

**The Habitat Module:**

Imagine a house-sized bubble, lozenge- or spherically-shaped. The membrane is fabricated of an exotic semi-organic material that is the result of many thousands of years of research and development. The single major attribute of this material is its extreme flexibility:

*Its permeability can be modulated — in its most rigid configuration, it will block a wide range of radiation and microscopic projectile impacts; in its most porous configuration, it offers no resistance whatsoever to passage by solid objects.

* Its permeability can be varied across the surface, that is, different properties can be applied to different points (even adjacent locations).

* Its total surface area can be modified as well (put bluntly, the size of the bubble can be changed). Nanotechnology-based mechanisms embedded throughout the outer surface of the membrane allow for:

+ Free-flight capability, due to strings of gravitic drivers. This permits the bubble to move in any direction at a variety of speeds. It can hover above the ground, establish planetary and stellar orbits, and even shift in and out of psuedospace.

+ Extensive sensor modules networked together.

+ Support of a wide range of offensive and defensive weapons systems.

The inner surface of the membrane is microengineered to create and sustain a psuedospace pocket, whose properties depend greatly on the amount of energy available. Generally speaking, the total cubic volume inside the pocket is many times larger than the bubble itself.

This describes the Juraian equivalent of a Dyson Sphere.

The Dyson Sphere (or Dyson Shell) was originally proposed in 1959 by astronomer Freeman Dyson, as a way for an advanced civilization to utilize all of the energy radiated by its sun. It is an artificial sphere the size of a planetary orbit. The sphere would consist of a shell of solar collectors or habitats around the star, so that all (or at least a significant amount) of the energy will hit a receiving surface where it can be used. This would create a huge living space and gather enormous amounts of energy.

The Juraian expression, while much more modest in scope, is still hideously expensive and massively complicated. Each habitat Module is _grown_ rather than constructed, and has but one single purpose: the core structure for an advanced-technology, multi-purpose starship with extended cruising requirements.

The usable volume of the psuedospace pocket is devoted to a biosphere, which reduces or eliminates the need for:

* Residential and administrative spaces restricted by the need to fit within space constraints.

* Inadequate cargo and repair facilities, again the victim of limited space.

Artificially-maintained life support systems (that must be periodically augmented with fresh resources).

* Physical and psychological effects of long-term confinement on the crew.

The benefits of such a bioengineered vessel are:

* Safe and secure — even luxurious — accommodations for the crew.

* There is enough space and power available to build a small _city_.

* Can be used for the transport of bulk cargo and extensive personnel during time of colonization or emergency.

* Extremely self-sufficient.

Like the star that resides at the center of a Dyson Sphere, a prodigious power source must occupy the heart of the Habitat Module, or it will never achieve its maximum potential. To-date, these power sources have been exclusively the Juraian Royal Trees, or the Masu-bred life form Fuku mated to the prototype vessel Kamidake II.

**THE LIGHTHAWK WINGS**

One cannot discuss the Lighthawk Wings (LHW) without a basic understanding of physics. Specifically, the structure of space/time. In a nutshell, most of the visible universe appears to be insubstantial; galaxies, stars, planets, molecules, atoms...they are all separated by an amazing amount of seemingly-empty space. However, this image is misleading. The fabric of reality is not an empty vacuum, but a foam of percolating virtual particles that flash in and out of existence in ceaseless turbulence. And this foam is filled with vast amounts of energy. (So intense is this energy that physicists Richard Feynman and John Wheeler calculated that there is more than enough energy in the volume of a coffee cup to vaporize all the water on Earth!).

Remember: matter is energy, also. Each subatomic particle is a _thinning_ of this tumultuous vacuum energy...like bubbles in a vast space/time 'ocean.'

Overlapping the universe is a coincident, deeper-dimensional, thought-like field, called quantum space, and regions of this field are chained to regions of normal spacetime. As the vacuum foam churns, kicking-out clouds of virtual particles and the occasional real particle, it causes the fabric of quantum space to ripple and surge, forming intensely complicated and interlocked moiré patterns. These quantum patterns are thus bound to the particles created in spacetime, like Peter Pan and his shadow. And since the connection is a two-way arrangement, each affects the other: manipulate the particles, you adjust the corresponding patterns; alter the patterns, and the attached particles are changed.

Let's review:

* The universe is composed of energy, most of it invisible, the rest observable as matter (which is composed of 'thinned' or 'frozen' energy).

* Particles in space/time are linked to patterns in quantum space — and the link is a two-way connection.

* If you change the particles, you automatically change the patterns; if you change the patterns, you automatically change the particles.

Few quantum patterns reside in isolation. Most are nested one within another like Russian Matrushka dolls, or woven into fractal carpets of increasing complexity: particle - atom - molecule - rock - planet.

Is it possible for matter to exist without a corresponding pattern? Unknown. Is it possible for a pattern to exist without its corresponding particles? Yes. Example: a brain is composed of billions of particles, each with its matching pattern in quantum space; a mind is a quantum pattern in its own right, and is simply anchored to a particular brain. (Old Hindu proverb: "The body is all in the mind, but the mind is not all in the body.")

Since patterns have no physical limits, neither would a mind. And since, generally speaking, particles only affect particles, and patterns only affect patterns, it stands to reason that: a mind can touch/affect another mind, and a mind can affect the patterns than govern the behavior of their linked particles.

Given a little thought, you begin to see how some previously-unexplained phenomena are comprehensible — like telekinesis and telepathy, for instance.

Which leads us to the _Adeptus Psycher_ Class.

Power adepts are a class of humans capable of performing psionic activities. These activities (such as telekinesis) are focused by the mind of the adept, and the energy to achieve the effect is drawn from ambient sources in the environment. The class is a relatively small percentage of the human population as a whole, and abilities vary greatly among its members. Adepts are ranked according to talent and abilities, with the top 10% awarded Master Class status. The absolute pinnacle of this ladder is reserved for the Super Class — and only two known human examples exist: Emperor Tenchi Masaki Jurai, and his first wife, Empress Ryoko Masaki Jurai.

To be ranked as Super Class requires the ability to perceive and manipulate quantum patterns directly — and the LHW are a quantum pattern, which can convert virtual particles into real particles utilizing the near-limitless energy of the spacetime vacuum. It is probable that all sapients bear this potential, but the percentage to actually achieve it is staggeringly small. There are more non-humans with this capability than humans — most notably the Royal Trees of Jurai.

In appearance, the LHW resemble plasma fields, whose shapes are dictated by the controlling entity. The effort to create and maintain even one Wing is enormous — each successive Wing consumes as much or more energy than the previous construct. The Genesis Tree has been observed projecting ten LHW, as has Empress Ryoko. His Majesty and the first and second generation Trees are each capable of producing up to three LHW. None of the later generations can create LHW on their own, but can create up to three of them when two or more Trees are networked together.


End file.
